The Art of Getting Fluffed
by ChocolateSparrow
Summary: Like every professional, Edward Cullen needs the right tools for the job. But what happens when they just don't work anymore? Cue Bella Swan, an expert at being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The adventures of Bunny and Fluff. Short funny chapters rated M for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

_fluffer (ˈflʌfə )_

_Definitions: (noun) a person employed on a pornographic film set to ensure that male actors are kept aroused_

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**Chapter 1 – Banging Dawn**

**EPOV**

Something is seriously wrong, it never used to be this way. I was king of this industry, Edward 'The Battery' Cullen, so named because I can keep at it for longer than the Energizer mascot, and 'The Bunny' sounds kinda lame. The only person who even calls me 'Bunny' is Jasper, because he thinks it's amusing, and says I've ploughed through more gardens than the average rabbit.

I first met Jasper when we were both film students at UCLA, when he thought he was going to be the next Spielberg, and I planned on becoming a serious actor. That was before we got mixed up in coke (a little) and cards (a lot) and suddenly we didn't even have enough money to eat, let alone pay for our tuition. We needed cash, and fast, and used the only skills we had, the ability to make a movie.

These aren't the kind of films I write home to my mom about. The thought of her ever seeing them sends ice cold shivers down my spine. She thinks I'm a jobbing actor, waiting on tables to make ends meet, hoping to become the next 'big thing' which, incidentally, is the title of one of my films. Whenever she comes to visit, I have to move out of my bachelor pad in Brentwood and into a shitty shared apartment in Melrose just to keep up the façade. Last month I even pretended to work at Starbucks, thanks to my friend Garrett who owns a franchise, although the latte I served her looked more like congealed spunk than a deluxe coffee.

Now, here I am, lying naked on a leather sofa, hoping to hell the cleaners Jasper employs have managed to fully disinfect it, and trying to will my flaccid cock to stand to attention.

The dude isn't listening.

I blame Rosalie Hale. Before she even walked into the studio this morning I could tell it was going to be a bad day. The way she slammed her car door told me her PMS was at full throttle, and then she stormed into the room, her face scrunched into a frown.

"You'd better make this quick, Cullen. I've got a date tonight and I don't want to be hanging around for the money shot. And don't pull my hair, these extensions cost five hundred dollars. If you touch a single one of them, I'll chop your dick off." She was pulling her clothes off as she spoke, then wandered naked over to the wardrobe area, where she was given some skimpy lingerie that would be ripped off her in five minutes.

"Hey Rosalie, nice to see you too," I'd smirked at her. I was wearing just a pair of soft blue jeans, hanging off my hips, my chest bare, bronzed and oiled. I hate that shit, but it's part of the job.

"Don't give me any lip today, I'm not in the mood. Just do your thing and get out of there, capisce?"

Yeah, way to get me in the mood, baby. It's like she thinks I'm some sort of machine, and she doesn't see the need to sweet talk me. She expects me to just get it up, bang her, and then walk away with a smile on my face.

It doesn't seem to be happening. This inability to perform on request is becoming a common occurrence.

Jasper calls for a break and pulls me to one side, his brows dipped in concern.

"Ed, we need to do something about this, every minute's costing us." He knows as well as I do our production company can't take any delays. We run a tight budget.

"I can't help it, it's like my dick needs to be wooed. Rosalie isn't doing it for me."

"I've got a little blue friend who can help." From the way he taps the medicine cabinet next to us, I assume he doesn't mean a smurf.

"I'm not taking Viagra. That shit can muck up your system." Okay, so I've put hundreds of different chemicals in my mouth before, but I've never messed with my libido. Jesus Christ, I'm twenty-six, not sixty-six.

"You're gonna have to do something, we can't go on like this." Jasper is literally pulling his hair out. He's tugging at his blond locks like they're going to help me get it up. It isn't working.

"I want a fluffer."

Jasper stops his tugging and stares at me, his mouth slightly open. A moment later, he starts to laugh.

"Nobody uses fluffers any more, Ed. That's why God invented Viagra."

"Correction, nobody but Edward Cullen uses fluffers. And I need you to get me one, pronto."

Jasper starts to pace, his brown leather work boots scuffing across the linoleum of the studio floor. "Where do you think I'm going to get one from, fluffersRus dot com?"

"I don't know, there must be someone who still does that shit."

"Dude, the only fluffers that were ever any good were ex-porn stars, and you and I both know they'll turn you on even less than Rosalie Hale does." Jasper is hissing now. He keeps looking at his watch like a girl on a blind date. "For fuck's sake just pop a pill."

"I won't do it." I fold my arms in front of me like a toddler having a tantrum. "I want to sort this out the old fashioned way."

"Now he thinks he's John fucking Holmes." Yeah, Jasper is definitely pissed. He always starts talking in the third person when he's really riled up. But I love him anyway for comparing me to the best-ever porn star, even if John Holmes died years ago.

"Come on," I cajole, sensing a little weak spot, "just give it a go. If it doesn't work, I promise I'll go blue for you."

Jasper leans against the wall, cupping his hand around his stubbled chin as his lips twist to the side. This is his thinking pose.

"If, and I mean if, I do this, what sort of girl are you looking for?"

I glance over at Rosalie Hale. She's standing in front of a mirror, cupping her over-large enhanced globes in her hands as she pouts at herself.

"She needs to be all natural. No fake tits, just a bangin' body." I start to form a picture in my mind. "And she can't be old. I want her to be in her early twenties, maybe mid twenties. No older."

Rosalie is now watching herself shake her own hair, and the over-processed blonde locks whip through the air as she moves.

"And she needs to have brown hair. No blondes." I'm feeling pleased with myself. I can just picture this cute little brunette, doing whatever it takes to make me get it up. It's like I'm one of those kids in that movie 'Weird Science' and I'm making my ideal woman. Just the thought of her makes me twitch.

Shit, if I can get a hard-on from just thinking about her, I can't wait to see what she's going to do for me in the flesh.

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**A/N Thanks to A-JASPER-FOR-ME and Grnidgrl for their hard work and support - and for making us smile! **

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	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 - Night of the Giving Head**

**BPOV**

The incessant buzzing invades my sleep, pulling me from a dream involving not just one, but two lifeguards, performing the kiss of life in places that wouldn't revive anything other than my evasive orgasm.

"God damn it!" I slap the offensive noise, rolling back into the covers and chasing after the tanned muscle-bound fantasies. I squeeze my eyes shut, visualizing the white sand beach and rolling crystal blue waves. The buzzing begins again in earnest.

Flinging every curse I know into the quiet room, I grab the phone and squint at the screen, focusing while the words arrange themselves into some sort of semblance. My roommates name flashes up, accompanying the vibration in my hand. An inappropriate use for the humming device enters my mind, but before it can develop, the screen darkens, and I see there's ten missed calls and five texts from Alice. I scroll for her number, but it rings again before I can blink.

"What the hell, Alice. I'm trying to sleep." I groan, sitting up and cringing at the reflection looking back at me in my mirror. A late night of hostessing and failure to locate my makeup remover results in a zombie-raccoon hybrid peering back at me.

"I forgot my brushes!" she screeches down the ear-piece, the sound reverberating around my skull like a pinball.

"What?" I slump back into the covers, pissed she's woke me up for this. I spent the early hours of this morning shucking off my ex. Mike was a limpet, who'd been clamped on my body from the regrettable moment we met. The burly bouncers of the bar I worked at had removed him when his attentions became embarrassing. We're talking an acoustic version of the Wind Beneath My Wings-with flapping actions. I'd wanted to curl up and die, but I flashed my perfect hostess smile and imagined murdering him with jagged, rusting instruments- over and over.

"The shoot I'm on today starts in half an hour and I've left my kit at home. Can you bring it? Please? I'll owe you big time," she begs.

"You'll do my make-up whenever I want it, _and_ I need you to come and help me with my latest piece. I need someone to hold the ladder and make me coffee on demand."

My exhibit for the student show was getting a little out of hand. I'm majoring in art at UCLA, but my passion lies in moulding wet, cold clay into something that would pass for art. A veritable challenge since my professor views everything I sculpt with barely concealed distaste.

"Deal, just get here quick. It's on the floor next to my bed in the black leather case." Alice ends the call before I can ask where the shoot is. I call her back, but it goes straight to her ridiculous singing voicemail.

I get ready at a snail's pace, throwing on athin green vest, the only thing I can find not covered in clay-dust, and dark denim cutoffs. I give up searching for my bras.

We don't have a washer in our shoebox apartment so laundry is an epic monthly trip. The overflowing wicker basket tells me it's time to visit the laundromat. Alice thrives on the outings, basing her expectations on romantic movies and episodes of Friends. She's always disappointed when the only heartthrob she sees is Gary, a walking heart attack in a string vest.

I remember her mentioning Studio Eclipse, and as she's still not answering her phone, I hedge my bets and drive my beloved, beat-up, powder-blue Beetle, Bettie, into the Hollywood Hills.

The security guard takes the "guarding" part of his title very seriously and interrogates me until the cool breeze alerts him to my braless state. Every question on his tongue disappears into his underpants, and he grants me immediate entry. As the barriers lift, I roll my eyes at him and drive into the parking lot of the glorified warehouses that make up the studios, parking haphazardly in a tight spot.

My car's decrepit door flies open quicker than I expect and smacks into the shiny black paintwork of a 1970's Chevelle SS 454, leaving a rusty scratch. Cringing, I scope out the lot for any witnesses, but the stars have fallen in my favor today, and it's empty.

I pull up the bottom of my vest and tenderly wipe the mark off. "I'm sorry, beauty." I whisper to the car, wincing at the minuscule scratch left behind. Having a classic car salesman for a dad has taught me plenty of useful things. The most important being to treat these old cars like you would a beautiful woman-or in my case a gorgeous man-not that I'd been caressing any of those lately.

I breathe a sigh of relief there's no damage a little touch up can't fix, and lock up Bettie, giving her a reassuring pat. "We were lucky there. I know she's gorgeous, but don't worry, I still love you."

I can't help running my eyes over the Chevy one more time as I leave the parking lot, nearly choking on my horror when I spot the license plate- 1 RUDE FK. Some people have no taste.

Of the three huge warehouses glinting under the morning sun, I head for the one with crew members smoking outside. Having given up only two months ago, I inhale deeply as I pass them. The nicotine floods my head, and I'm woozy in seconds. Bliss.

A petite, scantily clad redhead opens the door, before I can reach for the handle.

"Hey, sugar," she drawls.

I can't look away from the dark, spidery lashes surrounding her green eyes. They're stuck on lopsided and are so heavy, they flutter hopelessly when she tries to look at me. She gives up and tilts her head instead. "Are you lost?"

"I'm looking for Hair and Makeup. I've got something to drop off for a friend." I brandish the kit in front of her. My eyes linger on her huge plastic tits, that also seem to have a tilt, as she gives me directions. I congratulate myself on my symmetrical boobs as I step into the open doorway. They might not be the size of honeydews, but they're not migrating to my armpits, and you've got to see the silver lining where you can.

I walk down the dark corridors, dodging out of the way of people who all seem to have a purpose. It tires me out just watching them, so I formulate a plan for my afternoon. It involves my bed and a smutty book.

I poke my head into one room: a cramped costume department. A kaleidoscope of skimpy outfits dangle on hangers. The cheap, shiny material makes me itch just thinking of it next to my skin. Perspex skyscrapers, disguised as shoes, set off a niggle at the back of my mind that I might be in the wrong place.

A pair of hands grasp my bare shoulders. "There you are. You're late. We've got about two minutes before Rosalie flips her fucking lid."

I open my mouth, holding up the brush kit, but the dirty-blond haired man with steel grey eyes ignores it and manhandles me down the corridor. He pushes down the handle of a red painted door and shoves me in.

"Ed, you've got one minute," he shouts over my shoulder, shutting me in.

I'm stunned into silence at the scene in front of me. The reality of the situation slowly dawns, and I scream and cover my eyes. "What the fuck!"

I scramble for the door handle, squeezing my eyes shut, but the image flashes in my memory. The most jaw droppingly attractive man I've ever laid eyes on is lounging naked on a leather couch. Dark, perfectly tousled hair, a face straight out of GQ, marble chiseled abs, and the cherry on top, his long, perfectly straight cock is cradled in his hand.

"This needs to be quick. Come over here with those pretty lips and suc-"

"What the actual fuck is happening right now?" I turn the handle, tugging on the sticking door.

"Keep saying fuck." His low honeyed voice drifts across the room.

I drop my hands and glare at the pervert draped on the couch, forcing my gaze level with his lust-lidded eyes, flickering between my chest and bare legs. "Are you serious? Stop doing that you absolute fucking weirdo!"

His reaction is to throw his head back, a gutteral moan pouring from this throat as he palms his now fully erect cock from top to bottom. He stands at the end of the caress and stalks over to me.

"I knew Jasper would find me a winner. You're fucking perfect," he whispers, holding his wood like he's going to pole vault with it, as he walks out the door.

I open and close my mouth, wondering what fucked up fantasy I've walked into now. Was I still asleep? I pinch my arm and it hurts like a bitch. No such luck.

"What the hell, Alice." I say to the empty room.

I can feel the burning flush on my cheeks, but it's not from embarrassment.

It's from shock-cock shock.

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**A/N ****Thanks for reading, and for all your reviews. We hope you are having as much fun as we are.**

******A-JASPER-FOR-ME and Grnidgrl beta and pre-read, and make our giggles legible. They rock. **

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**Love, Choc & Sparrow x**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 - An Officer and a Genitalman**

**EPOV**

Two hours later, I'm freshly scrubbed from a long, hot shower, looking at the rushes over Jasper's shoulder. I wince as I watch the action; Rose's screeching moans sound even worse on tape than they did in reality.

And in reality, it was like having my balls rubbed against a cheese grater. That girl squeals like a tortured hamster on speed. She fucks with my mojo, and only the enduring image of my new, favorite fluffer was enough to get me through the shoot.

Literally.

I used to love my work, I really did. I'd arrive at the set, or even better, at a Hollywood mansion, with a big smile on my face, and it would stay there all day as I got paid for doing the stuff most men only dream of. I'm good at it too-it's not a coincidence I'm the winner of nine AVN awards, and am held up as the man who entices girls into watching porn. I worked hard, and I mean _hard_, to get where I am now, and it pisses me off the one part of me that should be celebrating is just...

Not.

"I don't think Rose is going to last in the mainstream much longer," Jasper muses as he squints his eyes at the screen, stopping at the parts he wants to cut out. "It's gonna be all Granny porn and fetish films for her."

I glance around the room to see if she's still here, but she must have left as soon as Jasper called a wrap. I guess she didn't want to cuddle afterwards. I want to laugh like a hyena at the thought of her having to star in mature porn.

"Are they still casting for Fifty Shades of Grey Hair?" I ask Jasper as he leans into the monitor, almost pressing his nose against a full frontal close up of Rose's beaver. For his sake, I'm glad they never invented smell-o-vision.

"She'll never get the part of Anastasia Still-Alive," Jasper muses, his nose wrinkling up as he spots some blemishes on the screen. "She isn't a brunette."

Which brings me back to my favorite subject.

"Hey, that fluffer you found me was a fucking babe."

"What fluffer?" He's hardly listening to me, too intent on viewing the action. I don't think I've ever seen a dude less turned on by porn than Jasper is. When people say watching this stuff would make you go blind, I'm pretty sure they didn't mean it like that.

"The one you brought to the make-up room earlier. Cute little thing, all shy and blushing. I don't know what sort of porn she's been starring in, but I want me some of that."

"That wasn't a fluffer." Jasper turns around to look at me, a little 'v' forming between his eyes as he frowns. "That was the make-up artist."

Now I'm confused too. "Nah, Alice is the make-up artist. That girl was the fluffer."

Jasper has his hands on his hips and is looking at me like I've just escaped from an institution. "I haven't found you a fluffer yet, Ed. Whoever that girl was, she wasn't your fluffer."

Oh.

My.

Fucking.

God.

I can feel my blood turning to ice as I start to think through the implications. I was laying naked on the couch in my room, bashing the bishop and talking dirty to some poor, unsuspecting girl. She isn't a fluffer, and she sure as shit isn't a make-up artist. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And I asked her to suck my dick.

I'm pretty sure that makes me some sort of sexual deviant, and you can get banged up in Folsom prison for that sort of behaviour. I thought she'd been acting when she was all innocent and wide-eyed, or maybe I'd just impressed her with my sheer … magnitude. Matter of fact, she was just plain and simply disgusted by my perverted actions. Shit, I'm the kind of guy mothers warn their daughters about.

"Jesus Christ, Jasper. Who the fuck is she?" I'm staring at him in horror, and the little bastard starts to laugh. Loudly.

"I've no idea, Ed. Oh, I wish you could see your face right now." He's spitting the words out between guffaws, and my hand is twitching with the need to punch him. "I can't believe you pumped the python in front of a total stranger."

"I do more than that in front of total strangers every day," I remark, wanting to wipe the idiotic smile off his face.

"Yeah, but they get paid for that shit. Now you're a goddamned flasher."

I start to glance around the set surreptitiously, wondering if she was somebody's sister, or even worse, their girlfriend, but nobody seems to be paying any attention. The only one even acting strangely is Alice, the make-up artist, and that's because she is a total fucking loon.

In the nicest possible way.

"Hey, Alice, come over here." I shout at her across the set, and she looks up at me, a surprised expression on her face.

"What? Is there something wrong with the make-up?" She wanders over and starts to stare at the monitor over Jasper's other shoulder. I notice his muscles tense, and he moves minutely closer to her.

"The make-up is excellent, darlin'." Jasper is all sweetness and light, and he turns to give her a big smile. "You're the best."

Alice simpers in return, and I'm tempted to tell them to get a room, but I'm afraid they'll take me up on the offer.

"What is it then?" She is still staring straight at him.

"Have you got an assistant or something?" I don't know what I'm hoping the answer will be, but I feel the need to ask her anyway.

"No, I work alone."

I breathe a sigh of relief, then try to ignore them as Jasper makes his moves on her, his lips turning up into a crooked smile as he sweet talks her in the only way he knows how.

"The first thing I do is decide which scenes look hot." He pulls her closer to the screen and she watches with her mouth wide open as the naked 'movie-me' walks into view, my cock upright and hard as steel, thanks to the mysterious non-fluffer and her dirty talk. Despite the fact it's my dick they're staring at, somehow I feel like the intruder here.

"I'm gonna go home and grab a bite to eat." I say it loudly just to make sure they hear me.

Jasper gives me a half-hearted wave, and Alice is still glued to the floor, staring at my appendage as the cameraman moves in for a close-up. I'm tempted to tell her I feel objectified, but I'm not sure she'll hear me. Instead I mutter another goodbye and leave the set, grabbing my duffel bag on the way out of the room.

This is always the best part of my day. Nothing makes me happier than seeing my vintage Chevy waiting for me in the parking lot like a dutiful girlfriend, her black and white paint-job glistening in the evening sun.

I bought her with my first big pay packet after wrapping 'Intercourse with a Vampire', a high-budget porn movie, which involved me dressing as a bloodsucker and biting women for the fun of it. Ahh, those were happy days. I even managed to hook up with my co-star a few times before we realized she only got off when I had my fangs in.

As I walk across the lot I pull a cigarette out of the packet in my shirt pocket and light it, cupping my hands around the match to block out the soft evening breeze dancing around me. I take my first drag of the day, delighting in the feeling of relaxation slowly spreading through my body.

And then I see it.

A scratch down the side of my car. It's barely perceptible, but it's there, and I want to kill the asshole who hurt my baby.

That's when I start to lose my shit.

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**A/N ****Thank You so much for reading, we adore your reviews and hope you are having as much fun as we are.**

**A-JASPER-FOR-ME and Grnidgrl fluff our writing so perfectly, that we want to give them each a night with Edward 'The Battery' Cullen.**

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**Love, Choc & Sparrow x**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 –Forever Hung**

**BPOV**

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"What's this one?" Alice is holding up another sculpting tool. One of many she's feigned interest in over the past few hours.

"That's a sculpting blade. The same as the other three." I respond without even glancing at her. She's getting the cold shoulder, and deservedly so, after my unwilling induction into the porn world.

"What do you do with this one?" She brandishes the cutting wire at me, stretching the two wooden handles out until the wire between is taut.

I slap a handful of wet clay down onto my moulding board; the reverberation around the bare concrete walls of my tiny studio makes her jump. "That is a cutting wire. But, I can think of a much better use for it."

"Wringing my neck?" She suggests, placing the tangle of wire back on the side.

I slice a corner of clay and work it in my hands, adding water to loosen it. "How did you guess?"

"Aww, come on, Bella. You've got to admit ... it was funny." I notice she hides behind the towering sculpture as she says it.

"What part of that experience do you think was funny? Ladder," I order her to hold the rickety contraption as I climb to the top. "The bit when he asked me to suck his dick or when he jacked off to my voice. "

Alice doesn't respond, but the whole ladder is shaking from her silent laughter.

"It's really not funny. I could report him for indecent exposure and you for …"

"Me? It's not my fault you got mistaken for a porn star. Can you imagine? What the hell were you wearing anyway?" She's five seconds away from getting the clay dropped onto her head.

"What the hell have my clothes got to do with it? It wasn't my fault, it was _your_ fault. You're the one who didn't tell me it was a fucking porno."

I climb down, shooting her my iciest glare, when she waves me away with a flick of her wrist. I respond with a flick of my fingers, splattering grey sludge over her black dress. Alice's style is funeral chic: dark black, light black, black on black. She doesn't veer outside the spectrum, but she brightens her morbid wardrobe with hair that changes colour as often as a porn star drops her panties.

Today's color is electric blue.

And, I need to stop thinking about utterly mouth-watering perverts with a severe lack of modesty.

"Bella, I can't believe you just did that!" she yells, but I only have to raise my eyebrow to cut off her rant.

I take a swig of my lukewarm coffee. It tastes like shit so she's failing her chores already. "Can you make yourself useful, and go get me a double wet cappuccino?"

Alice snorts as she does every single time I ask her. "You're such a prude for someone who accepted a job on a porn set."

She hops up onto the side, swinging her black pantyhose-clad legs back and forth. "I have my reasons."

"Oh yeah, and what would that be? Got a crush on Long Dong Silver?"

She guffaws, shaking her head, and I bite back a smile that's twitching at my cheek.

"Nope, but Jesus, that's the understatement of the year. I hope you got a good look at it. Jasper was showing me some shots, and that man is something else." She lets out a long whistle.

"Who's Jasper?" I ask, ignoring her obvious attempt to glean details of Cockgate by grabbing a chunk of clay and warming it with my hands.

"He's the director. Longish blond hair, impeccable ass, dirty drawl … "

"Oh, I know who you mean. He's the other person I'm going to have arrested. He locked me in with Ron Jeremy, and in my eyes, that make him an accomplice."

"Are you seriously comparing Edward Cullen to Ron Jeremy? You're crazy. The man's a freaking Adonis."

I'm not altogether surprised to hear his real name: Google really is a wonderful invention. "I didn't notice what he looked like. I was too busy fearing for my life."

"You liar." Alice jumps off the side and ambles over to me with a wicked grin on her face. "If you didn't see anything, then how come you've created a life-sized replica?" She nods to the perfect long, straight and oh-so-thick piece of clay in my hands.

Fucking hell.

* * *

I pull into the car lot, driving Bettie around the side, out of sight from potential buyers.

_I_ love her to bits—my dad would prefer to see her in pieces.

I fix my windswept hair in the mirror. The only downside of classic cars is the lack of air con, so living in sunshiny LA, convertibles are the only sensible choice. Scorching afternoon sun bakes the tarmac, and even the cool breeze that ruffles the blue and silver streamers zigzagged above the lot does nothing to relieve the sticky heat.

Dad's MGC roadster is parked under the shade of a towering jacaranda tree, its purple-blue blossoms clashing against the sparkling red paintwork of the car. The blistering heat of black leather against your skin is an unpleasant experience-not that I ever get to drive it. He'd given me free reign over the cars in the lot from the moment I could drive, but I wasn't allowed near his precious baby. It wasn't like I'd meant to spill the strawberry milkshake over the centre console.

Grabbling the pastrami and dill pickle on rye from the foot well, I hunt for Dad along the rows of cars glinting in the sun. His unmistakable rockabilly quiff is bowed, mid-negotiation with a potential buyer, so I let him work his magic and seek out the cool sanctuary of his office.

I wave at the guys sweating away in the workshop. The renovation and repairs bring in more regular earnings, vital when there's a lull in sales, which seems to be happening a lot more these days.

"Hey, Boo." Sam, the head mechanic, shouts over Buddy Holly blaring out of the radio. "What-cha got there?"

"Nothing for you, greedy guts." I laugh at his pout and head into the office, flopping in the chair and kicking my feet up onto the desk. From my position, I've got a good view of the lot and the garage. I see the Wall of Tits the guys have painstakingly crafted is still intact despite an official complaint from Bree, Dad's secretary.

She'd tried to get me involved, but I'd been brought up around these grease monkeys all my life and it would take more than a pair of knockers to fluster me. More like a naked porn star. I groan as my thoughts return to him again. If he wasn't so damn attractive, I could forget about him. But I couldn't, and it was driving me insane.

I decide to make myself useful and grab a duster and some polish, snagging a set of keys off the hook on the wall on the way past. Glancing at Dad as I walk over to a mint green Pontiac, I see he's been waylaid by another customer. They're standing next to a black Chevy inspecting the door. I take two more steps before my mind catches up, and I throw myself between the cars, crouching on the tarmac.

Shit shit shit shit. Of all the dealerships in all of LA, the pervert's turned up here. Could my life get any worse?

Yes, it can—he's talking to my dad. Christ.

I press my cheek into the cool metal of the car door, praying to every single god they didn't see me. Not being of any one religion, I turn my attention to the rain gods, or maybe not them, I'm always pissy when it's raining. The sun god—I was just cursing that too. Oh, fucking hell.

After a few minutes, when I'm almost certain my dad's not going to march over and demand to know how I've come to make an acquaintance with an employee of the adult entertainment industry, _or_ even worse, Edward "The Battery" Cullen isn't going to whip his snake out and demand I blow him, I release a breath and inch up to peek around the headlights.

They're still talking, Edward bending over to point at something on the door. I curse out loud remembering the ding I left in it. Thank fuck Bettie is out of sight. My concern doesn't last longer than a second when he stands back up, and I get to see him in all his glory.

Dressed in slim black jeans with a fitted black button-down tucked into them, an oval belt buckle glints in the sun, winking at me like it's signalling 'Come see what's down here ladies'. What the hell is wrong with me? The man's been in more holes than Tiger Wood's golf balls, and I'm drooling over him. But, knock me down with a feather if he isn't the most good-looking man on the planet. The positives start lining themselves up in my mind. He's pure sex-on-legs, and at least he shares his prowess for us all to enjoy; something that magnificent shouldn't be hidden away.

Sick. I am totally sick. But, I know without a shadow of a doubt I'm going to watch one of his movies when I get home. I decide to rope Alice in seeing as she's the reason I'm in this clusterfuck, _and_ it makes me feel a little less of a whore.

What doesn't make me feel better is when he shakes hands with my dad-I can't even go there-and then turns and walks in my direction.

I shoot back down into a crouch, my heart hammering in my chest. Oh god, no. No. No. No.

A minute passes before the sound of footsteps increase and a natty pair of indigo, crocodile-leather shoes appear in front of me.

"What the heck are you doin' down there?" Relief rushes over me like a waterfall at the sound of my dad's voice. I stand up, surreptitiously scoping the lot. His car is still parked there, but I see no sign of him.

"Hey Dad, I was just polishing a tricky spot." I lie, sliding out from between the cars and giving him a hug. He straightens his fancy navy blue suit jacket after I let him go, and slides his hands along the side of his hair.

"Erm ... you finished with your customer?" I focus on a spot of dirt on the bonnet, so he can't see my expression, which is almost a grimace.

"Oh, yeah. Chevy SS guy. Beautiful car that one. He's got a scratch in his door, bit worked up about it, but it shouldn't take much to get it out. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

I breathe a sigh of relief at the change of subject, feeling a twinge of guilt about the damaged door, but I don't focus on it for more than a second, following him across the lot back toward the garage. I might have left a scratch on his car, but he's scarred me for life with his little peep show. "Just popped in to say hi and brought you a sandwich. I'm working the next few nights, so I'm gonna be AWOL for a bit."

"You know I don't like you working late at that bar, B."

I wave him away. "I'm fine. It's not far from our place, and someone always walks me home. Stop worrying." I nudge him with my elbow. He's pretty cool. Bringing me up singlehandedly, he's always been a little protective, but I secretly like it.

"What you need is a man to take care of you." I roll my eyes. This is his new favourite subject.

"Dad, I just broke up with Mike. I'm enjoying my freedom." I laugh at his expression when I mention my ex's name. He wasn't a big fan. Mike was too boring, and he'd laughed at my dad's quiff when he came over for dinner, cracking jokes about Sandra Dee. It went down like a ton of bricks. Nobody laughs at the quiff.

"Honda wasn't right for you." Dad's renowned for judging everyone on their choice of car, and a hybrid Honda was as bad as it gets in his eyes. "Chevy SS on the other hand, he was a good-looking guy, and he's got great taste in cars." I want the ground to swallow me up.

I choke on my words and only manage a strangled 'Mm-hhm'.

Of all the things he could have said, the next words out of his mouth are the worst I could have ever, _ever_ imagined.

"You know, I recognise him from somewhere, but I just can't put my finger on it."

Fuck. My. Life.

* * *

**A/N ****Thank You so much for reading, we love each and every one of your reviews. You've had us giggling a lot this week!**

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	5. Chapter 5

**AN: **_In case you missed it - we posted Chp 4 on Monday. FFn was drunk and not everyone got their update email!_

**Chapter 5 – Lost in Penetration**

**EPOV**

* * *

Jasper Whitlock is a douche. I've been standing on the corner of Hyperion and Riverside for about thirty minutes, pulling my cap down low and my sunglasses up so people stop staring at me. When he eventually pulls up in his pimped-out pussy wagon, he leans out of the window and shouts, "Hey Bunny, hop your tight little ass over here and get in."

Ignoring the interested glances of the few passers-by, I pull open the door, wincing as the strong odor of chemicals invades my nostrils.

I guess he's had to get it valeted. Again.

He drives through West Hollywood on Santa Monica Boulevard, all the while making cracks about the filming he directed today, and how the star 'Ginger LaRoux' managed to multitask so very well.

"You should have seen her, Ed. She was more stacked than the central library. I've never seen a girl take three in the valleys before."

Closing my eyes, I try to tune him out, wondering how long it's going to take for Swan's Classic Autos to repair my Chevelle. Maybe I should call Charlie and offer him some extra cash for a speedy service so I don't have to rely on Jas to be my own personal taxi service. My lips twitch as I remember him-the dude looks more like a porn star than I do with his rockabilly clothes and his seventies 'stache. Maybe he'd be up for a cameo in one of our productions.

"I forgot to tell you, Bunny, I've invited a few people over to our place tonight. It's been a long time since we got our groove on." Jasper really talks like he's starring in a scene, even when the cameras aren't rolling. It can be disconcerting for the uninitiated.

"It's _my_ place." I correct him, wondering why the hell I ever agreed to him stopping over for a couple of nights when his lease ran out.

Three years ago.

"Tomato, tohmahto." He lets go of the steering wheel for a moment and gestures wildly, the car veering to the right before he regains control. "Anyway, we need to celebrate the return of the hot tub."

Ah, the hot tub.

That freaking thing is the bane of my life. I get it cleaned, someone jizzes in it. I clean it again, then a girl's panties get caught up in the filter and the whole thing overflows like mentos in a Coke bottle. When people come over, I end up dragging them out of there like a prude at an orgy. Which, I guess, is essentially what I am.

Jesus, who wants to sit in a hot tub somebody else has been partying in? That shit is wrong.

"The tub is off limits," I growl as Jasper swings the truck left onto St. Vincente Boulevard, causing my shoulder to bang against the plastic trim of the passenger door. "Except to me."

Hell, it's my tub and my groove and if I want to get it on, I will. "Who's coming anyway?"

"Everybody, if it's anything like last time." Jasper smirks, and I resist the urge to smack him around the chops. The compulsion descends every few minutes or so.

"I'll rephrase. Who have you invited to attend this evening's soiree?"

"Most of the cast from today, plus Indigo, Chanel, Persia and Tits McGee." The last one is our nickname for Rosalie Hale, and I groan at the thought of her flouncing around my crib. "Oh, and I invited Alice too."

At least there'll be one guest I haven't slept with multiple times, which seems like a good ratio. With her over-enthusiastic gestures and inability to keep her lips shut for five seconds, Alice is nuttier than squirrel shit under an oak tree, and I never intend to remedy that particular situation.

"Does she know what she's in for?" I close my eyes and remember the last party we had a month or two ago. The neighbors weren't so impressed by the sights and sounds of ten girls and five guys, and it took more than a little gentle-and not so gentle-persuasion for the cops to calm down. I guess Rosalie does have her benefits after all.

"She works on a porn set, Ed. I don't think she's expecting champagne and canapes."

As we pull up to the house, I wonder if she's expecting cock rings and clamps instead. I can't help but smile at the thought of her reaction.

* * *

Later that evening, the party is in full swing and I find myself in the hot tub with Connie Lingus and Beverly Hills. Their real names are Mary Scott and Lisa Jones, but it doesn't seem to matter as I watch them paw at each other, their eyes sliding back to my face to gauge my response.

I'm bored. This whole scene is dragging me down, rather than lifting me up, especially where I need some extra support. I wonder if dentists get their kicks by drilling holes in their time off, because I can't see the attraction of a busman's holiday.

Jasper is pacing up and down on the patio. For some reason he is wearing a pair of boardshorts, a mask and a snorkel. I can't work out whether he wants to attract attention or is planning to soil the hot tub. Either way, he seems like a suitable match for Alice-who, incidentally, hasn't even bothered turning up yet.

Connie Lingus moves across the hot tub, her breasts bobbing along the surface like water-wings, until she sits down next to me and starts talking in a high-pitched baby voice. "Do you want me to give you some pleasure, Daddy?"

I bite my lip to stop from laughing. I'm limper than a wet noodle, and her attempts to turn me on are ridiculous. Deciding to go in the house and play some Grand Theft Auto, I stand up and turn around, wishing I'd brought a goddamned towel out with me because the cold breeze is causing parts of me to shrivel.

That's when I come face to face with 'Fluff Girl'.

She gapes at me as she runs her gaze from my head to my foot, taking in every inch of my wet, naked body. She visibly swallows when she gets to my crotch.

I wish.

I watch as a flush steels its way up her neck and face, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, her expression one of distress. If I wasn't naked, I'd go over and give the poor girl a hug.

As it is, one part of me seems to be reacting to her, and it doesn't do anything to calm her down. She is becoming flustered, her eyes wider than the Alemeda Tunnel as she opens her mouth and starts to scream.

"Alice! Get the fuck over here now!" I turn my head and spot Alice standing next to Jasper. For some reason, she has her lips wrapped around his snorkel. I'm not even making that shit up.

Alice ambles over, pulling Jasper along behind her, and looks at me as if it's normal for me to be at a party, stark bollock naked, with a hard-on bigger than her wrist.

"Hey Bella, I think you and Edward have met already."

"Hi Bella," I reply at her, hazarding a smile. She seems glued to the spot, unable to speak. Eventually she lifts one limp wrist and does a sort-of wave at me. I like the way her name plays across my lips, and I want to say it again.

"Can I get you a drink, Bella?" Yeah, now I just sound weird.

She shakes her head rapidly from side to side, and pointedly stares at Alice. It must be a girl-to-girl communication thing, because her eyes pop out and her lips do something, and then Alice shakes her head in response. It's like watching a movie in Japanese, I know they're saying something, I just don't know what.

I'm wracking my brain for my next move. She's standing right between me and the sliding door, and I want to walk in and find something to cover myself up with, but that will involve brushing past her. She seems to have lost the ability to do anything other than stand there, and I don't want to frighten her any more than I already have.

I decide to make conversation one last time, noticing her gaze has returned to my groin. I start to walk towards her, my cock bobbing up and down, her eyes moving up and down with it like a kid on a trampoline.

Like the fucktard I am, I open my mouth and insert my metaphorical foot.

"Maybe I can give you something to eat instead?"

* * *

**A/N Thanks to A-Jasper-For-Me and Grnidgirl for their excellent work, and for all the giggles.**

**Thank you for reading, reviewing and pimping - we want to give each of you a night in Bunny's jacuzzi, and a starring role in Hump in the HotTub 3.  
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	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 - Saturday Night Beaver**

**BPOV**

* * *

It wasn't difficult to find his house. The man was an exhibitionist through and through; the whole place was lit up, floor to ceiling windows offering an insight into the debauched world of Edward Cullen.

"I see clothes are optional." I deadpan at Alice who's vibrating with excitement like a dog that's spotted the ball in your pocket.

"Do I look okay?" she asks for the seven hundredth time, fluffing up her magenta curled bob. It's a rhetorical question I don't even have to answer. I'd never seen her looking anything other than flawless.

Having a makeup artist for a friend has its downsides, but she'd taken me under her wing the moment we'd met, after turning her nose up at my eye shadow, declaring it clashed with my face. She made it her raison d'etre to overhaul my whole look, and I'd definitely reaped the benefits. Men lining up outside my door had gone from one—the mailman—to at least three. Like I told my dad—I was enjoying my freedom.

A giggling blonde in a string bikini opens the door and invites us in with a breathy voice I'm sure is meant to sound sultry and sexy, but makes me want to direct her to the nearest pharmacy for some Strepsils.

Alice wastes no time dragging me to the back yard, emitting a squeal when she spots Jasper complete with snorkel. I need to broaden my mind, considering who the host of the party is, so I bite back a quip about muff diving.

She's been hyper about the party from the moment he invited her. Luckily for me, I'm working tonight. I'd congratulated myself on managing to avoid the party totally, but she's blackmailed me into dropping her off, promising it would be a quick in and out—find the house, find Jasper, give him the "hurt her and I'll cut your balls off" talk, and leave for work unscathed.

Given the high probability the Porn King himself will be here, it is at his house after all, we'd devised a plan. Two bottles of Sauvignon Blanc, three pornos starring "The Battery" and a couple of changes of panties later, we formulated Operation: Dodge the Dick.

It fails at the first hurdle.

I'm about to follow Alice over to Jasper when I see him. He's sitting in the hot tub surrounded by a bevy of beauties, following the stereotype down to the letter. Steam floats off the surface of the water into the inky night sky, and snatches of reggae music mingle with the alarm bells sounding in my head.

Flight instinct takes too long to kick in, and all the scenarios I'd imagined pale in comparison to what occurs next.

He stands up from the hot tub, water pouring from his perfect body like Poseidon emerging from the depths of the ocean, ready to wreak havoc on poor unsuspecting mortals with his colossal trident.

I freeze on the spot, dumbstruck. His weapon takes the words out of my mouth and the feeling from my legs. He lithely steps out of the tub and walks towards me, and I feel like the Little Mermaid standing on her new legs for the first time. Holy fucking shit.

Eventually, I screech at Alice and somehow manage to wave at this god, who really should find somewhere to store his conspicuous trident before someone gets hurt.

I think he's talking to me, but I might as well be under water for the sense it makes. Vague words form in my mind.

"Maybe, I can get you something to eat instead?" he asks, and if I'd been looking at his face, I would have seen a hint of embarrassment, but I can't tear my eyes away from his cock.

"No, I've had a big dinner." I mumble, and the raucous laugh that erupts from him, jiggling his erection so I feel like it's mocking me, snaps me into action, and I grab Alice and pull her into the house.

The kitchen seems to be the quietest room, yet my eyeballs still have to play a round of Naked Ping-Pong until I decide to focus only on Alice's face to avoid my blushes. It's scrunched by a giggle she's failing miserably to contain.

"I'm aborting the mission right now, Alice." I cross my arms so she knows I mean business. Her eyes crinkle and fill with tears of laughter, but she remains quiet. "Are you going to be okay here?" I hazard a glance out the window overlooking the pool and hot tub, both filled to the brim with tit soup.

"Don't worry. Jasper isn't into all that stuff, and he's going to give me a lift home. I have my phone and I can call you at the bar if I need you," she reassures me, but I can't help but worry what she means by "that stuff". "Are you sure you won't stay for a bit? He's honestly a nice guy and Jasper said he's been asking about you."

I slap my hand to my forehead. This is the last thing I need. "Don't tell him anything!" I warn her.

"What ... me? I would never! Can you imagine if I told him how you paused the movie on his "O" face because it was a "work of art" you want to paint on your bedroom wall, or how you turned up the volume to the top level so you could hear his dirty whispering?" She raises her perfectly plucked eyebrow in challenge.

"Oh my god, Alice. I was drunk. Will you keep it down." I lower my voice and search for a kitchen implement I can hit her over the head with. The only thing nearby is an odd shaped pepper mill, so I snatch it up and brandish it. "One more word, and they'll never find your body."

Alice's eyes widen at the metallic object, and her laughter peels around the room. "Put the dildo down, and I won't say a word."

I drop it like a hot potato, and it clatters to the floor, the loud noise disguising my groan. Can this get any worse?

I glare at Alice and thoroughly wash my hands under scalding water, drying them on my work shorts. I thought my uniform was pretty sexy, a sleeveless white blouse, black shorts and stilettos, but here I feel like the boring bauble you hide at the back of the Christmas tree.

"I'm leaving. If you end up with a starring role in 'Jizz in the Jacuzzi 2', you only have yourself to blame!"

She dissolves further into giggles, so I throw my hands in the air in surrender and leave her with Jasper, who has breezed into the room waffling about a bunny he's lost. I don't even want to know.

I stomp out of the kitchen and weave my way through the sea of nakedness and out the front door. Bettie is parked down a darkened, secluded section of the driveway. I throw my bag into the back seat with a huff. "Let's get out of this hell hole."

I shove the keys in the ignition, but she decides she doesn't want to leave, and the engine ticks over and dies.

"Are you serious, Bettie? Please just do this one thing for me." I beg. "I'll give you a proper wax and buff, and I swear I'll never touch another car again. Just give me a friggin' break."

I turn it over again, but nothing.

After a few deep breaths, I climb out and pop the trunk, while threatening her with the scrap yard. I'm too stressed to sweet talk. Pulling the white blouse over my head so I don't get oil on it, I lean over the engine, balancing one knee on the bumper, and wriggle the alternator wire, hoping that does the trick.

That's when I hear the sizzle of a drag on a cigarette. I whip my head around in the direction of the noise, and see the rosy glow in the shadows. As my heart leaps into a gallop, it dawns on me the lurker has been privy to my irate conversation with Bettie, and that I'm now half-naked bent over her trunk.

A man, dressed in tight black t-shirt and a pair of worn jeans, steps out of the shadows with a wry grin.

And, of course—because karma's a bitch—it's Edward Cullen.

* * *

**A/N Thanks to A-Jasper-For-Me and Grnidgirl for their beta'ing and pre-reading expertise.**

**Thank you for reading, reviewing and pimping. We've been laughing our heads off at some of your reviews this week. There was a lot of snorting/spluttering/choking so we apologise for any ruined computers or clothing!  
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**Want to talk? Come chat with us on Facebook or twitter - our links are on the profile page. See you next time, Sparrow and Choc xx**

_SECRET MESSAGE FROM CHOCAHOLIC...sparrownotes24's one shot (Orange Kisses and Peppermint Hearts) has been nominated for top ten completed in March on twifanfictionrecs dot com. If you've read it, please go vote, and if you haven't, go read it, it's fabulous. You can find it through the link to SparrowNotes on our profile page. PS, don't tell her I wrote this!_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 - Legally Boned**

**EPOV**

As soon as she leaves, I feel the urge to follow her, aware this makes me look like more of a perv than ever. Stopping in my room to pull some clothes on, I grab my pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and wander out to the front of my bungalow.

That's when I see her, bent over the car, her pert little ass wiggling all over the place, like an open invitation. I haven't been this excited since I filmed Titty Titty Gang Bang 3. I light up my cigarette, and her head whips around as she stares at me, her mouth agape, and her barely-concealed tits jiggling under a sheer white bra. Just looking at her makes me hard as a rock.

I clear my throat and try to act like it's a normal occurrence to have a partially dressed female cavorting around my driveway, jiggling her behind in the air for all the neighborhood to see.

I guess it is.

My neighbors are always complaining about the number of naked tits that congregate in the vicinity of my house. I know old Mrs Visconti, who lives in the house opposite, takes particular delight in complaining to zoning, the cops and anybody else that will listen. I swear she has a whole wall of shame in her living room, because I peeked in once and it was plastered with pictures of me. Mostly naked.

I suppress a grin at the thought of Bella being arrested for indecent exposure.

"Do you need ... ah ... any help with that?"

I'm not sure what aid I can offer, though my intimate knowledge of car interiors means I can tell her the back seat of the VW Bug is smaller than it looks, particularly when there's three of you squashed in there. And one of you is in a gimp suit.

Somehow I don't think this is going to prove much use to Bella in her current predicament.

She bites her lip, a flush stealing up her chest. Looking down at the car, she flicks her hair over her shoulder and mutters something under her breath.

"What?" I lift my hands up to indicate I didn't understand her.

She raises her still-red face up until her gaze meets mine, and loudly replies, "I said, I almost didn't recognize you with your clothes on."

I shake with laughter, watching as her eyes widen and she skims my body with a glance. I look down at my old torn jeans and tight black t shirt, trying to work out what about them is causing her breath to shorten and her chest to hitch. Because, Jesus, I look much hotter with my clothes off. Surely she must remember that?

Bella slams her hand on the side of the car and lets out a frustrated groan, mumbling something about her friend Bettie, and the way she always leaves her stranded. I watch her palm slide up and down the fender and her face scrunches up in frustration. Trying to think of a way to placate her, I rub the back of my neck, feeling the need to be all manly and take control of the situation.

"I can take a look at that." I stamp my cigarette into the tarmac and walk around to the front of the car. Popping the hood, I step back in surprise when I see only a spare tire, a couple of books and a rusty old wrench. No wonder the damn thing won't start up.

"The engine's in the trunk." Her voice is amused, and I feign nonchalance as I mosey on around to the rear of the car, pretending I knew that all along. She shifts to the left, her shoes scraping across the tarmac, as my eyes sweep across the rusty pipes and cylinders. Geez, I wish I'd paid more attention in Shop class, rather than spending most of my senior year underneath the bleachers with Lauren 'The Jugs' Mallory. When the other kids were burying their heads in a book, I was burrowing mine somewhere infinitely more ... interesting.

"There's definitely something wrong with your car." I cup my chin in my hand, nodding slightly, trying to look like I know what I'm talking about. "I think you might need a new one. Or an engine. Yeah, maybe a new engine."

Bella is staring at me, open-mouthed again, and for the first time, it seems like her eyes aren't trained directly at my groin. I'm not sure if I like this development.

"I'll call my dad."

Not the words a porn star likes to hear when a girl is stranded on his driveway. For some reason, fathers don't seem to like me.

She makes the call, pulls her top back on, and then we walk back towards the house. I sit down on my porch step, patting the wood next to me, and she joins me while we wait for her dad to arrive. I want to shoot the breeze with her, but I really don't know what the hell we have in common. It's not as if I can talk to her about my job; her reaction to that stuff is clear. Eventually, I settle on what I think is an innocuous question.

"So, have you seen any good movies lately?"

For some reason, this causes Bella to choke, her eyes popping out of her head as she doubles over, loud sputters escaping her lips. My hand hovers for a moment as I debate whether slapping her back will help, or whether she'll just think I'm into some S&M shit.

Eventually she stops coughing and sits back up, putting her hand up to smooth down her now crazy hair. "I, er, haven't really watched any movies recently." She eventually replies, biting her lip and glancing down at the ground. "Alice and I really aren't into that sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?" I mean, Jesus, who doesn't like movies?

"You know," she starts playing with the fabric on her shorts, using her nails to scrape at the hem. "Stuff. Dirty stuff."

Fuck.

I'm instantly hard. _Again_. I can picture us watching dirty stuff together. I can see us _doing_ dirty stuff together, and there's nothing I want more than to drag her back into the house and show her exactly what I'm capable of. Bad things that would make that blush on her face a permanent feature.

"Do you mean porn?" I ask. Now that she's started the conversation, I'm interested in seeing where it goes. I lean toward her and brush her hair behind her ear, my fingers trailing down her neck, feeling the soft flesh leading down to her chest.

"Yes." Her words are like a moan, and again I'm transported into dirty-movie territory. This girl would be so good on celluloid.

My voice dips as I move my lips to her ear, whispering softly. "Do you like watching porn, Bella?"

She squeaks. Like a mouse.

I raise my eyebrows at the sound, as she tries to inch away from me, her ass shimmying across the step. She glances down at my crotch again, and moistens her bottom lip with her tongue.

That's when I realize exactly what she's been watching. She sits there, looking like a nun at an orgy, and I stare straight into her big brown eyes, my gaze narrowing as I move my face towards hers.

"Have you been watching _my_ porn, Bella?" My voice is barely audible now, but I know she's heard it. She swallows visibly, then opens her mouth to gulp down some air.

She is so mine. I'm about to move in for the kill when the silence of our mutual stare is shot to shit by the loud booming sounds of a car stereo, and we pull away from each other with a start. I whip around to see an MGC Roadster fly into my driveway, screeching to a halt inches behind Bella's car.

"That's my dad." She literally jumps away from me, perfecting a move I haven't seen in real life since the sixth grade. He pushes open the door, climbing out and onto the driveway, blue suede shoes first. I glance at his houndstooth suit before my eyes register his face, and I blink in recognition.

"Edward Cullen, fancy seeing you here." Charlie Swan strides over and shakes my hand vigorously, sliding his eyes between Bella and me. "I see you've met my daughter."

Oh.

A big grin is plastered over his face, and he raises his eyebrows to Bella, who is fairly oblivious to his gesture. Her wide eyes are moving back and forth from me to Charlie like a spectator watching a tennis match.

The noise from the house suddenly gets louder. The front door opens slowly, and I watch as it reveals Connie Lingus, standing naked as the day she was born, her tits pointing at Charlie like headlights. Like a train wreck I'm incapable of stopping, I watch as her mouth opens in slow motion, and brace myself for the fall-out.

"Oh Eddie baby, we seem to have run out of condoms. Do you have any more?"

* * *

**A/N Early post to celebrate The Art of Getting Fluffed being nominated for Fic of The Week. If you can spare the time, we love if you can vote for us on www dot tehlemonadestand dot net. ****  
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**A-JASPER-FOR-ME and Grnidgrl beta and pre-read, and make our giggles legible. They rock.**

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**Love, Choc & Sparrow x**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 - A Few Hard Men**

**BPOV**

* * *

For one millisecond, I have something in common with Edward Cullen. I flash my eyes at him, and he looks back at me like a startled rabbit, mortification mirrored in our expressions.

I daren't look at my dad's face, but Edward hazards a glance and has the decency to look embarrassed, which lands him a point from me, taking him out of double negatives for the first time.

"Bella, what on earth?" Dad's eyes are like saucers as he looks between Naked Norks and Edward before turning to glare at me. But the cogs start to whirl and the pieces of this fucked up, ludicrous puzzle fall into place. I see the realization dawn on his face like a slow-mo action shot, his brow shoots into his quiff then down to his suede shoes.

"Umm." He clears his throat, rubbing his mouth with his hand. "What's the problem with the car?"

The change of subject lets us off the hook, and we all exhale in relief. I don't want to explain how I know Edward, and I sure as shit don't want Dad to explain.

"She won't start, and I need to be at work about ten minutes ago." I wave in the direction of Bettie. As soon as Dad turns toward her, I kick Edward's sneaker, nodding at our nude friend who's watching my dad with a predatory stare worthy of a starved cat stalking a mouse. He gets the message and ushers her back into the house. I hope to hell he stays in there, but it seems he's trying to torture me, because he bounds back outside and stands by my side, ignoring the death glare I send his way.

We all remain silent for the few minutes. Dad's head disappears in the trunk, but I can feel Edward's eyes burning into my cheek like a laser. I about to tell him to fuck off when Dad announces Bettie is shot to shit, and it's going to take him a while to get her going. It's like she heard my threats and is making my life hell on purpose.

"What am I supposed to do? I'm already late. El will kick my ass." I cover my face with my hands and start walking back and forth, muttering curses.

"I can drop you off," Edward interrupts.

"No!" Dad and I shout at exactly the same time.

"What? I haven't been drinking." He holds his hands up, and I can't contain the snort that comes out. As if _that's_ what's worrying my dad.

"I could drive your car, Dad." I look at the Roadster longingly, thinking maybe this is finally my chance.

"Seriously, Bella?" He shakes his head and laughs as if told him I wanted to fly to the moon.

"I can drive Bella," Edward repeats, as if in the thirty seconds that have passed Dad will have forgotten he's a notorious porn star.

"You have no car." I fold my arms, impressed with my own quick thinking.

"I can drive Jasper's." He challenges me with a quirked eyebrow. Damn him.

"Jasper can drive her." Dad all but growls, and I fight back the urge to stick my tongue out at Edward.

He laughs but pulls his phone out of his pocket, presumably calling the man himself. A minute later, Jasper emerges from the front door. His snorkel's gone, but he's now wearing flippers. "You rang, Bunny?" he slurs.

Before I can process Edward is Jasper's bunny, and all possible connotations of that revelation, I watch as he awkwardly maneuvers to the edge of the steps, lifting his legs up high to gain adequate space for his neon yellow flippers. He manages one step before he trips and tumbles into a large bush edging the stairs.

"For the love of all things holy!" Dad cries, and I hear a metallic clang, which was possibly him banging his head against Bettie's hood. He emits the longest sigh I've ever heard. "You can give her a ride, Edward, but … a ride is all. Got it?"

"Got it. Just a ride." Edward's smug tone and the smile pulling at his lips make me want to smack him. Dad's oblivious to the fact he's just given Dirk Diggler an invite to bone his daughter.

I groan, tipping my head up to the dark skies, "Give me strength." I whisper.

Edward pulls Jasper out of the prickly bush and fishes the keys from his pocket. He presses the button and a light flashes down the drive. A fizz of giddiness builds when I think I spot the unmistakable trunk of a Mustang. I barely say goodbye to Dad before running to touch her, running my hands over her charcoal grey paintwork. I think I'm in love, until I walk around the front and scream.

Edward runs to my side like a knight in shining armor or Throbbin' Hood, which incidentally, is one of the movies I've … heard … he won an award for.

"What the fuck is that?" I point to the red and orange flames licking across the hood of this poor, poor car. It's sacrilege, and I want to cry.

"Jesus, Fluff, don't scare me like that." Edward climbs in the driver side, oblivious to my distress. I take a moment to compose myself before sliding in the passenger seat, sitting as far away from him as I can.

"Don't you _dare_ call me that." I lower my voice to as menacing a growl as I can manage. It's not very effective, only giving him a pained look on his face as he shifts position in his seat. I need to work on my "don't fuck with me voice".

He starts the engine, and I'm assaulted in every single one of my senses. Club Tropicana blasts out of the speakers, pina colada flavored air freshener gusts out of the air vents, and the inside of the car glows with electric blue light. My jaw drops to the floor. I feel like I'm witnessing a massacre.

Edward turns the music and the lights off and mumbles an apology.

"You and Jasper are going to hell."

He barks out a laugh. "Oh, I know. I've got a seat next to the devil himself."

Ah yes, the porn. I bite my lip hard to hold in my snark and in the vain hope the pain will distract me from the images of him naked and sweaty, pounding orgasm after orgasm out of his co-stars. I'm too hot.

I wind down the window and stick my face out into the breeze.

"So, where are we heading?" Edward asks.

"Purple Pussycat."

He starts choking and I'm forced to finally look at him in case I need to perform a Heimlich Maneuver, but he recovers quickly. "You work at the Pussy?"

I roll my eyes at him. "Yes." He starts shifting in his seat again. I'm not sure why, these seats are a dream, or they would be if they weren't warming up my ass. Who the hell has heated seats in California? Oh, yes … tasteless porn stars.

Edward looks in pain again, and I feel a slight flicker of concern—for myself. I don't need him to pass out behind the wheel. "I'm not a dancer, or at least, only on rare occasions."

I root around in my bag for my braces and bowtie, the icing on the cake for my uniform at LA's premier Burlesque club. I seem to have accidentally switched on his mute button, and I'm not about to turn him back on. I set about fastening the bow tie around my neck, and the braces to my shorts, twisting the bottom of my blouse into a knot.

I flip down the visor, and after getting over the fright of thinking the ten packets of Magnum XL that fall on my lap are some kind of giant insect —I slick on my red lipstick.

Edward's odd behavior is starting to worry me, so I decide to break the uncomfortable silence. "You don't drink?"

"No, I _do_ drink."

"Oh, but you weren't drinking tonight … at a party?"

"Umm … nope."

He is being so weird. "Why? Don't want it to affect your performance?"

I snort, but he doesn't laugh. "Oh God, I should just shut up. It's not like you have any problems in that area," I blurt out, and immediately want to slap myself in the face. Why am I so obsessed with his cock?

He mumbles something and pulls the car in a space outside the Purple Pussycat.

I don't waste any time getting out. Firstly, because he's oozing sex and that's just no good for me, and secondly, because I'd rather die than let anyone see me in this car. But, either I'm a glutton for punishment or an addict to Edward, because I lean back in. "What did you say?"

He drags his teeth over his bottom lip and turns his heavy lust-lidded eyes on me, and I feel it right between my thighs. "I said, I don't have a problem when I'm around you. I'm so fucking hard right now, I could drill through a metal door. You're like my own personal brand of Viagra."

I shoot straight up, cracking my head on the door frame. "Owww fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck." My body reacts to his words, heating up before my mind realizes what he said. When it gets with the program, I huff and slam the door, stalking into work on a mission to find a freezer to stick my head into and then a quiet room to lock myself in. My cheeks are on fire and the throb between my legs isn't going to go away on its own.

I hear a groan from the open window on the driver's side. "She's gonna fucking kill me."

"That would solve a lot, Bunny!" I shout over my shoulder.

"Fucking Fluff." Is the last thing I hear as the tires screech and the vandalized car disappears into the night.

"Fucking Bunny." Why does that all of a sudden seem like a good idea?

* * *

**A/N Thanks to A-Jasper-For-Me and Grnidgirl for polishing our words.**

**Huge fluffin' thank you's to all of you who voted for us at TLS! At the moment we're in the top 5 which is incredible. We've been blown away by your amazing reviews and pimping this week. You make us giggle.**

**Want to talk? Come chat with us on Facebook or twitter - our links are on the profile page. See you next time, Sparrow and Choc xx**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**EPOV - Emission Impossible**

The vision of Bella's sexy ass wiggling under the thin fabric of her shorts like puppies in a blanket is burned in my mind as I pull up outside my house. Her car is still in my driveway, and I glance around to locate thrift shop Elvis, half expecting to see his blue suede shoes peeping out from under her car.

Fuck, he's not there. Nor is he bent over the hood, or sitting in his own car. In fact, there's no sign of Charlie Swan anywhere outside my house, which leads me to only one conclusion.

Bella`s dad has joined the party.

Fuck fuck on a fuckity fuck. My heart drops into my stomach as I push my front door open, the throb of reggae louder than ever as the musty, sweet aroma of exhaled weed assaults my nostrils.

I've never been into mature shit, but I'd rather spend a hundred hours, my eyes propped open with toothpicks, watching Porn of the Almost Dead than see the scene that greets me when I stroll into my yard.

Charlie, naked from the chest up, leaning back in the hot tub, surrounded by giggling porn stars, as he holds court.

I clear my throat and his head whips up, two spots of high colour forming on his cheeks. He has the good grace to look shamefaced as I cross my arms in front of my chest and rock on my heels, trying to work out what the hell he is thinking. His quiff hangs crookedly over his forehead, small beads of water dripping from the ends, and I don't even want to know what he's been doing to get so wet.

Then Beverly Hills pops up from under the surface, gasping for breath, and I try to remember if there's any bleach in the laundry room, because my brain can't take much more.

"Uncle Charlie?" The tone of Alice`s tremulous voice matches my racing thoughts, and as I turn, the look on her face makes me want to burst out laughing.

'Cause lets face it, when you get invited to a porn party, the last person you want to spot sitting in the hot tub is your best friend's dad.

Beverly ignores Alice's sudden arrival, and turns to Charlie, shaking the water off her hair like a hairy dog. "I looked and I looked but I couldn't find it under there."

Charlie coughs, his face reddening as he stares down into the churning water. "Are you sure, because it was definitely there the last time I checked?" He reaches a hand up and scratches his bushy mustache. "Why don't you take another look?"

"Even if I do find it, I'm not sure it's going to fit." Beverly moans, pushing her lip out in a 'little -girl' pout.

"What the-" Alice screeches from across the patio, her hands over her ears. "Charlie Swan, you get out of that jacuzzi right this very moment, or I'm calling Bella."

"Let's not be so hasty, now." He stands up, and I'm bathed by a river of relief when I see he still has his tighty whiteys on. They're sodden and baggy, the crotch weighed down by water so it makes him look like he's wearing a nappy. His pale legs are bendy and thin, and as he hooks his knee over the edge of the tub, I start to worry it'll snap like a twig.

"I see it!" Beverly squeals, jumping up and down, clapping her hands with glee. "It's there, oh my God, how did I ever miss it?"

"I told you it was there, didn't I? Now be a good girl and pull it out."

Beverly drops onto her knees, and I watch in astonishment as Alice literally runs across the courtyard, yelling like a banshee. Before she can reach the edge of the jacuzzi, Beverly dives down to the bottom, her hand reaching out to grab something shiny from the far edge of the tub, before standing up and holding her prize above her head like a gold medal winner.

I surprise myself by starting to clap.

She puts the vintage class ring on her thumb, waving her hand around under the light of the patio. "Did this really belong to Buddy Holly?"

Charlie opens his mouth to respond and I turn my back on them and walk into the house, hearing the soft padding of Alice's bare feet as she follows behind me. When I make it to the kitchen, I hear her start to speak.

"Ah, Edward, can I use your bathroom?" Her voice distracts me from staring at the worktop. I can't understand why somebody's put a dildo on there.

"Sure, it's the second door on the left." From the corner of my eye I can see Beverly and Charlie struggling, as she refuses to give him back the ring. I shake my head and turn away, I've seen enough of both of them to last me a lifetime.

When Alice returns, fluffing her hair up with her hands until it looks more hellcat and less helmet, she grabs a beer from the ice bucket and sits down at the breakfast bar, her chin in her hands, and stares openly at me, a grin plastered across her face.

"What?" I swear to God if she's thinking of my cock I'll kill her.

"You know, Bella really likes you."

I turn my head and look at her curiously. Girls don't _like_ me. They want to fuck me, or watch me fuck, or hear me whisper dirty stuff in their ear. I'm not the kind of boy they take home to meet their mom.

I'm not even sure I know how to have a normal relationship. Even in high school, girls used to write about me on the restroom walls: my name and number in a black sharpie, followed by phrases such as 'humungous dick' and 'multiple orgasms'.

Of course I took the calls.

But since my dick stopped working, I've realized there has to be more to me than just twelve inches of flesh. When the battery runs down, and the bunny stops gyrating, does he just get thrown in the trash? For so long, I've been defined by the size of my penis-by girls, by directors, by viewers. But most of all by me.

I'm about to grill Alice some more when we're distracted by a strange noise, a rhythmic 'slap-phut, slap-phut' that sounds like a strange, lopsided animal dragging itself across the tiled floor. I twist my neck to see Jasper, wearing only one flipper, his mask askew and his snorkel strangely absent, staring at Alice with a determined expression. Glancing around, I see her looking back at him, her moist lips slightly open, her chest heaving as she struggles to take a breath.

Through the picture window, I can see Charlie Swan still standing in his dripping y-fronts, looking confused as two guys I don't even know try to drag Beverly away from him, but she's a determined little thing, and trying to pry her off him is like trying to pull a leech from your skin.

Despite having only been here for a few minutes, and even though this is my home, I realize it's the last place in the world I want to be right now. I mumble a quick goodbye to Alsper, who by now are sucking each others faces so hard they've become a single entity, and go back out front to Jasper's car, patting my hip to make sure I still have his keys in my pocket. The resulting jangle reassures me, and I feel a smile tug at my lips as I consider my destination.

The drive back seems to take forever, but eventually I pull up outside the club, handing the keys to the valet, and his look of disgust when he sees the car's paintwork makes me consider whether I should give him some extra money to take care of Jasper's baby.

Fuck it, it's not my car, and Jasper's been leeching off me for three years.

I've been to the club before, and as I wander over to the entrance, the security guard beckons me over, a surprised expression on his face.

"Hey, Ed, you here to make a personal appearance?"

I shake my head as I reply, "No, tonight's all about pleasure."

I can't understand why a flush covers his face and he looks at me so intently, like he's never seen me before. He unhooks the rope and lets me through, and as I walk into the club, the hot, sweet smell of perspiration hits me, and it reminds me of the aroma of a set after a hard day at the office.

Not for the first time, I find myself plowing my way through the Pussy, but it seems different tonight, edgier and more desperate, and as I glance around at the tables and the bar, there's something missing, and I can't quite put my finger on it.

"Oh my God, that's Edward fucking Cullen," a thin, blonde middle-aged woman screeches, running over to me, sharply tugging at the hem of my t-shirt. Only a moment later, she's joined by a crowd of screaming, over-excited ladies who start to rip at my clothes, and as I look around for help, I notice the stripper on the stage is actually a guy.

The clues all come together; the strange look from the bouncer, who clearly thinks I'm gay, the sweet smell of lustful female pheromones, the club full of turned-on, violent females.

Somehow, like a lamb to the slaughter, I've walked into the Purple Pussycat on the one night I should have avoided.

It's Ladies' Night.

* * *

**A/N All the love to MissezPattinson for nominating us for TLS fic of the week. We came third! (not something you'll hear Bunny say).**

**We adore Grnidgirl and A-Jasper-For-Me, they make our porny ramblings readable. **

**And you guys, our lovely readers, we are so grateful to you. Your reviews make our day, and cause us to write updates in the toilets at work. Because you're worth it.**

**Fluff you all, Choc and Sparrow xx**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 – Pulp Friction**

**BPOV**

The noise level in the Purple Pussycat reaches ear splitting decibels as an oiled up, orange-skinned stripper slinks onto the stage, rippling his muscles in a way that makes me want to dry heave rather than dry hump.

He's dressed only in a pair of black silk shorts, and appears to be wearing socks with Bart Simpson on them, the spiked yellow hair visible over the top of his shit-kicker boots.

His poor fashion sense doesn't tame the crowd any, and the hard-core ladies that come every week are still clamoring to get at him. They walk the thin line between being Slick Rick's biggest fans and scariest stalkers.

Stripper movies have given women high expectations that the specimens on display rarely live up to. Edward "Bunny" Cullen on the other hand, he was a sight for sore eyes or dirty minds for that matter.

The sweet smell of floral perfume mixed with the tangy Appletinis on deal, hides the unpleasant smell that usually hangs in the air, an unfortunate side effect of the smoking ban. My cheeks cool down once I hold two ice-cold bottles of Rolling Rock to them, willing Bunny's revelation out of my mind. I sing along to the music blaring from every corner of the bar to keep his words from turning me on—which they do, like the flick of a switch.

What flicks it the other way and sends me into full-on meltdown is the thought of my dad at the porn party. I shudder at the thought, and hope to hell he managed to get out unscathed.

Weaving my way back to the bar, I see a customer manically trying to catch my attention. A huge grin spreads over my face when I walk over and see Jai, one of my oldest friends. He stands up, rushing over all waving arms and sashaying hips and pulls me over to his table, clearly I wasn't walking quickly enough.

"Hey Jai, what are you doing here?" I tuck my tray under my arm, wondering why on earth a man with twenty-twenty vision and a passion for garish fashion is wearing a pair of boring, black-rimmed spectacles. They're not even Ray Bann.

"Does my hair look okay?" He asks, flicking the dark, shiny locks over his shoulders, his brown eyes searching wide over my shoulder, the lenses of his glasses making them look owlish. There is no way he can see a thing. I turn around to see what's catching his attention.

"Yep, perfect. You're giving Pocahontas a run for her money, as always." It's his pride and joy. He swears weekly moisture wraps and one hundred strokes of his designer bristled brush each night keep it ship-shape. "Who are you looking for?"

He grabs onto my arm, pulling me closer so I perch next to him on the velvet seat. "I'm here with a date." He emits a little squeal. "His name is Marcus, and he's an accountant."

"Ahh, I understand the glasses now. Very studious." I tap them on the frame, and he drops his head looking up at me over the edge of them like a disapproving history teacher, which is a stark contrast to the turquoise and blue paisley shirt he's wearing.

"I'm trying to appear more serious," he leans in further and whispers, "and less flamboyant."

"Um, Jai, you brought him to 'Ladies Night' at the Pussy, and have you looked in the mirror?" I tease.

He emits a huff and pouts, "I thought I'd toned it down."

I kiss him on his cheek and laugh, "You're probably the most exciting thing that's ever walked into his life." He blushes and hugs me.

As I stand to leave, I see a coy smile on his face as he looks over my shoulder.

"Oh my look what the cat dragged in. I give him two minutes before they strip him naked and drag him back to their cave."

I spin round and my jaw falls to the floor when I see Bunny being mobbed by an ever increasing gang of women, like squawking parrots in their bright dresses.

"Who on earth is that?" Jai is standing beside me now sans glasses, presumably to take in the view, and he doesn't miss the moment Bunny spots me, or the desperate pleading look on his face. "Oh my God B, do you know him? I think he wants you to rescue him or something?"

"I don't know him from Adam."

"Who's Adam?" Jai asks, but changes back to his previous line of questioning when Bunny clearly shouts 'Fluff' over to me.

"Who's Fluff?"

"Somebody I was mistaken for. It's a long story, I'll tell you later."

"How long?"

"Jai, seriously, shut it."

"Oh my Sally Ann, you had sex with him didn't you?" He turns to me with a smirk on his face and his hand on his hip, turning up the dramatic flair. It's why he's perfect for the stage, that, and he's got a voice like an angel.

I don't get the chance to answer because after signing his name across at least three exposed cleavages, Bunny makes a break for it. I wonder for a moment whether he carries a special pen around with him. Bic- for-Breasts seems like something a famous porn star would need at his disposal along with MagnumXL. There I go again. I shake my head to rattle all penis thoughts out of it.

"What are you doing here? Forget something?" I cock my head to look at him; he does look slightly shell shocked, and the women are still baying for his blood. When I hazard a glance over his shoulder, I'm thankful laser death glares are harmless because I would be a chalk outline on the sticky carpet if they weren't.

Jai doesn't waste any time and steps in front of me as if protecting me from a perceived threat, which he's probably right about, but it's just a threat of Bunny ruining every pair of panties I own and my innocence without even knowing it. Okay, maybe my innocence is a stretch.

"Hello, and who are you?" He puffs up his chest like a peacock, resplendent in his vivid blue get up.

"I'm Edward Cullen, and you are?" Edward holds his hand out and Jai leaves him hanging for a few seconds before he responds.

"Jai Black. That's Jai with an i not a y." He'd changed his name in tenth grade when he declared Jay wasn't an acceptable nickname for Jacob because you can't dot the "y" with a smiley face. "You may also know me from Cats."

Bunny's eyes meet mine with a confused expression, but I still don't step in. I'm enjoying his discomfort much too much for that. "Cats?" he asks.

Jai sucks in a deep breath and I roll my eyes; we're going to be here awhile. "Have you seen Cats the musical?"

I can see Edward's light bulb moment but the crooked smirk that follows worries me.

"Yes, I know Cats, though I'm more familiar with the non-musical version."

Jai is perplexed but it morphs into an abject horror similar to my own. "You mean the direct-to-video version? Oh no no no, Edward, you're missing out unless you've seen it live."

"Well, now you mention it-"

Oh, Jesus Fuck.

"Look Jai, Marcus is here. Don't you think you should get him a drink."

I manhandle Marcus, who's more confused than any of us, over to Jai, who narrows his eyes at me and raises a perfectly arched eyebrow, but thankfully, (because I wouldn't even know where the hell to start) he lets it drop.

"Okay Bella, I'll be calling you tomorrow so we can catch up on everything." He accentuates the last word so it's true meaning is clear. Fuck. "Nice to meet you Edward."

"You too. Maybe you can tell me more about Cats next time we meet."

There isn't a lycra-clad-McAvity-the-mystery-cat -in-hells chance of that happening. No way.

I wait until Jai is out of ear shot before I let rip at him.

"What the fuck, Bunny? What are you doing here and Cat porn, seriously?" He laughs but I hold up my hand to silence him."Don't even say a single word about it. I don't want to know."

"Why not? Cats 2- Kitty Play was actually quite classy. I had a few solos _and_ I won an award for my range, and not to mention the accolades I won for Thundercats Are Hoes. I was Lion-O. Clearly."

He gestures at his wild clusterfuck of hair and winks at me. I want to hit him across the head with my tray. He's just ruined some of my most treasured childhood memories.

I can feel my cheeks burning and I'm thankful for the darkened bar. Sucking in a deep breath, I glare at him. "Why are you here? Other than to fucking torture me with your horizontal tango resume."

"I have a vertical one too," he looks genuinely offended I omitted it, "and parallel." Then his smug smile is back.

"Jesusfuckingchrist." I consider hitting myself over the head with the tray, anything to end this conversation.

"You have such a dirty mouth." He sighs as if this pains him. "Can we go somewhere a bit quieter?"

"No. You can go home. I've still got two hours to work then I'm going to bed."

"How are you going to get home, your car's still at mine?" Edward grimaces, and I'm about to ask why, when he announces the worst idea in the history of all ideas ever in the whole wide world, not to mention the universe.

"I'll wait for you, and I can take you home."

"Absolutely no way."

"Yes way."

"Nope."

"Bella." He grinds his voice out in a warning growl making my body react like the wanton slut it is.

"Have you not got places to be, people to do?" I see El over his shoulder frowning and realize I've been stood doing nothing for far to long.

"I haven't got anywhere else to be and there's no one I'd rather do ." He splutters. "Nothing! I mean there's nothing I'd rather do."

I ignore his Freudian slip but for some insane reason, I feel like donning leather chaps and joining in with the ladies dancing to Christina. "Look Bunny, you're gonna get me fired."

"You won't get fired and even if you do, I can easily get you a job." His smirks back.

"Really? That's so kind of you, because porn star _was_ on my list of things I wanted to be when I was a little girl, right between a fairy princess and prima ballerina."

I start to move past him but he places a hand on my arm his touch zapping through me like a fucking electric shock, sparking into a fire when he whispers into my ear, "You could always be my fluffer."

* * *

**A/N Thanks to A-Jasper-For-Me and Grnidgirl for all their help. Many thanks to each and every one of you for reading, reviewing and pimping, you make our day.  
**

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**See you next time, Choc and Sparrow xx**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 - Jurassic Pork**

**EPOV**

As I lie on the sticky, carpeted floor, cupping my balls in agony, I reflect that offering Bella the role of my personal pork-polisher may not have been the most sensitive reaction to her job-related angst. When I imagined the ways she could make me hard, slamming her bony knee against my incredible bulk didn't feature in my all-time top ten.

The noise of the baying women and the throbbing strip music is drowned out by the terrible wail of a high pitched scream, and I want to tell whoever it is to shut the fuck up, because it's making my head pound.

Then I realize it's me.

Damn, that hurts.

It's not easy being a guy with a big dick. I spend my life trying to protect the little fella, like a proud parent who wants to wrap their baby in cotton wool. High fences and low bollards make me wince in equal measure. I can understand why Henry VIII went around wearing a codpiece; maybe he, too, made the mistake of offering a girl the position of his personal fluffer.

I must be improving, because suddenly I'm thinking about Tudor Porn, and Shaking My Spear, and everything seems alright with the world.

"Please stop screaming," Bella whispers frantically in my ear, and I realize she's kneeling down next to me. "If El finds out I've assaulted a customer, he'll sack me for sure."

I groan a little more, and gingerly check myself to see if it's all intact. Ed Junior might be a little bruised, but he's definitely not broken, and I thank God for small mercies.

And big ones.

It's not unknown in this business for guys to have industrial accidents. I've heard stories of reverse cowgirl, over enthusiastic co-stars and missed holes resulting in dicks being snapped in two. There's even an operation to mend that shit, but anything named 'penile de-gloving' makes me want to cross my legs and cry, so I'm freaking delighted there's no permanent damage.

"Is there a problem here?" Bella's boss reaches the crowd surrounding my sorry ass, and I catch her eye, noting her panicked expression and silent pleading. She reaches out a delicate hand and offers it to me, her features turning hopeful, and I curl my fingers around hers like I'm grasping on to an olive branch.

She mouths a 'thank you' as she pulls me to my feet, and trying not to wince, I reach down to surreptitiously adjust myself, noting with relief that there's little swelling around the cock-area.

Ha, I never thought I'd be pleased to not have a swollen cock, but tonight is turning out to be full of first times.

First Ladies night; an interesting experience, but not one I'm desperate to repeat.

First time I've been kneed in the balls; definitely not something I care to reenact.

First time Bella Swan has looked at me like I'm her savior? Hell to the yes, I'd do that shit over and again. She makes me feel ten feet tall, and my soft, tender, sword starts to twitch in response.

Halle-fucking-lujah, Flesh Gordon is alive. Now I've grown an extra twelve inches, and I've never been so happy to have an inappropriate hard-on.

"Do you wish to file a complaint, sir?" The big boss man sneaks a crafty glance at Bella, his face lit up in a way that tells me he wishes he'd caught her doing something wrong. I'm still a little giddy about my functioning undercarriage, and only just restrain myself from pointing to my swelling girth and giggling like a madman. El doesn't look like the kind of guy who'd take too kindly to having a hard dick waved in his direction, so I do my best to calm down, then turn to answer his question.

"Everything's fine, I just slipped." Only a white lie, because you could call my little aside to Bella a slip.

If you're the king of understatement.

"In that case, can I suggest you get back to work, Miss Swan. Perhaps you'd like to bring Mr Cullen a drink." He turns to me, a simpering smile plastered across his face. "On the house, of course."

For the next hour, I sit in a corner booth, flanked by MacAvity and his sidekick, trying to ignore their increasingly annoying questions about the porn industry. They both look hugely disappointed when I tell them I've never seen a male/male scene, and I tune out their expressions of shock, preferring to watch Bella as she works the club. I do appreciate their rather camp displays of possession, though, when a group of women approaches our booth, intent on dragging me out to the dance floor. A tiger-like growl from Jai is enough to send them squealing, and he leans back on his seat, a look of satisfaction on his face. He's like the cat that got the cream.

As I watch Bella talking with customers and carry tray after tray of drinks, I'm filled with a newfound respect for her. The women here are bitchy and demanding, but the smile remains painted across her lips, and I muse that she deals with more dicks in a single night than the most voracious porn star.

She catches my eye a couple times when she sashays past our booth, and I notice that her earlier disdain has been replaced by something resembling. . .attraction? Maybe it's just wishful thinking, or projecting, but I can feel a little fire of hope burning deep in my belly, right next to the other hot organ she seems to ignite.

"Are you staring at my girl?" MacAvity looks at me through narrowed eyes, his protectiveness flip-flopping from me to Bella like a limp dick. He sweeps his hair back over his shoulder in a dramatic flounce, and the first thing that flashes through my brain is that it looks even silkier than Bella's.

I bet that shit stings.

"I'm just trying to check if her shift is over," I lie, crossing my legs in an offering to the gods of falsehoods. "I'm going to drive her home."

"Oh no you didn't! You can't just up and take my girl home." He waggles his finger at me like he's drawing letters in the air. He's seriously strange, and I notice his date eyeing him weirdly. I feel like pulling him aside and explaining a little about first date etiquette, because even I know that on the first night you don't take your date to a strip club.

On ladies' night.

_That's right,_ my inner Ed sneers, _you meet them in your room and wave your dick at them instead._

Touche. I remain silent and let Jai work this stuff out for himself, because Dr Ruth, I am not.

When her shift is over, I'm surprised when Bella heads right for me, her eyes trained on mine. She drops her ass on the bench, her shoulders drooping. "I hate ladies' night, the tight bitches are so demanding and they never tip."

I know she must more than make up for it when the dudes are in the place. For some reason, that thought upsets me.

"Are you ready?" she asks, and I stand up eagerly, amazed she's going to let me take her home without a fight. A lock of hair has fallen over her face, and I reach up to push it back behind her ear, watching her chest hitch as I touch the soft skin of her neck.

"Let's go." I flick the valet ticket between my fingers, waving briefly to Cat-boy and his side-kick, before following her through the empty club. I want to sling my arm around her shoulders and pull her alongside me, but I stop myself because the last time she touched me, I ended up rolling around the floor.

"Hey, are you working tomorrow?" I ask her as she pushes open the main door, and we exit into the cool night air.

She wrinkles her nose. "Why do you ask?"

I get it. She thinks I'm going to ask her to come fluff for me. As if I'd be so obtuse.

"I just wondered if you fancied spending the day with me. I've not got much planned apart from a bit of shopping. Maybe you'd like to join me?"

"Does it involve fetish shops and gimp suits?" She rolls her lip between her teeth, and I feel the strangest urge to pull it out.

And insert dick.

"Nah, I have a costume fitting."

She turns to me, an expression of disdain morphing her features. "You want me to come with you to the studio? Because I'm totally not up for that."

The valet seems to be taking a rather unprofessional interest in our conversation. I hand him ticket pointedly, and he gets the message, lumbering slowly to the garage, a disappointed expression on his face.

"We don't have a costume department, Bella." I try not to laugh at her question, because I know she'll only hit me again. "I have to sort out my own stuff. I just need to pop in to a costume store, and after that, the day is ours."

The look on her face is priceless as she swings between curiosity and disdain. She's like an open book, and I wait for the warring emotions to play out.

I'm not sure if I'm happy when curiosity wins.

"What sort of outfit do you need anyway?" she asks, grimacing slightly, as if she's preparing herself for my answer.

"Superhero," I cough, and hope she doesn't catch my reply.

"Which one?" She has her hands on her hips, and I feel like I'm being interrogated by my mom.

It's my turn to prevaricate, and I know that no good is going to come of this. I eventually answer. "Batman."

There's not a hint of a smile on her face when she asks her final question. "What's the name of the movie?"

I search through my brain, trying to avoid giving her the real answer. But the lateness of the evening has dulled my reactions, and I find myself opening my mouth and letting the truth spill out like vomit.

"Batman and Throbbin, the Caped Cooch Crusaders."

* * *

**A/N We'll just leave you with that image of Bunny in lycra. If anybody wants the role of Catwoman, we are open to bribes ;)**

**Thank You so much for reading, we love each and every one of your reviews. And sometimes they make us spit coffee on our keyboards.**

**A-JASPER-FOR-ME and Grnidgrl are superheroes to us. You guys rock our worlds.**

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**Love Sparrow & Choc xox**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 - Star Whores: Sith on my Lightsaber**

**BPOV**

* * *

Waiting for the valet to bring the car round, I mull over the title of his upcoming Cockbuster, biting my cheek to stop the smile from spreading. The movie producers must be killing themselves laughing, thinking this shit up. Bunny's sheepishly awaiting my reaction and has angled his crown jewels away from me as if I'll strike at any time.

The cool breeze makes me shiver and as his eyes dart to my chest, he makes a strange whining sound, which is drowned out by the purr of Jasper's Mustang as it pulls up to the curb. I wince again at the graffiti sprawling across the hood, not sure I'll ever get over the damage he's done to it.

"Which one are you anyway?" I ask.

"Hang on." He turns away from me and does an odd hobbling dance.

I frown at him wondering if he's finally cracked, but when he turns with furrowed brow I expand. "Batman or Throbbin?"

"Batman," he answers abruptly.

"Batman would have never been seen dead in this." I gesture at the car.

His lips are pressed in a tight line and he forces the words out. "Not mine."

Somewhere between the club and the sidewalk, he's regressed to a monosyllabic, chest-beating caveman or a grouchy toddler. I'm undecided as to which as I watch him shuffling to the car.

"What the hell is wrong with you, and why are you limping?"

"I'm not. Get in."

"You are! What the …" I gasp and slap a hand over my mouth, "Is it your ... um ... are you still sore?"

He gives me the 'are-you-fucking-kidding-me' look, and I feel a bit guilty.

"In." He growls in a tone that would make a weaker woman drop to her knees and fluff away.

I step forward to give him a piece of my mind but my heel catches on a crack in the sidewalk and I find myself on all fours at his feet. The universe is conspiring against me.

I scramble up with Bunny's help, his hand wrapped around my elbow. I thank him, trying to ignore the part of me that wants to twirl around with my hands clasped to my chest and throw glitter and love hearts into the air at his touch, (and the other part that wants to be the bump to his grind).

Instead I hold my palm out. "Give me the keys. I'll drive. You can hardly walk."

""I can walk it's just a little … ermm ... uncomfortable. Are you okay?" He genuinely looks concerned for my well-being, but then his attention returns to my personal cold weather sensors that are on full alert.

I cross my arms over my chest. "Yes. I'm fine, but you look," I chance a glance at his crotch and it's definitely swollen, "in pain, so I'm driving, and I can get you something to reduce the swelling. I think I've got a bag of peas in the freezer."

"Jesus, Fluff, I'm not putting frozen vegetables anywhere near my cock, and I'm definitely not being driven by a girl." As if that was the worst option.

I huff and bend over to slip my heels off, three inch stilettos hinder my abilities somewhat. He groans and rests his hands on the roof of the car almost bending over double. I start to think I might have to take him to the ER.

Grabbing the keys out of his hand while he's distracted, I jump in, gunning the engine to life, and he lopes around the passenger side and gets in. The purr that vibrates through my body feels almost as good as my pocket rocket.

"It's only around the corner anyway." I cruise out into the traffic and slam my foot to the floor; the roar I'm rewarded with makes me groan in pleasure. "This car is fucking awesome!"

"Jesus Christ! Can you slow down!" He's making a show of gripping onto the seat, the skin across his knuckles stretched white.

I glare at him until he gestures wildly to the windscreen. "I guarantee I'm a better driver than you."

"I can guarantee you're not. Watch that motorbike!" He yells, covering his eyes.

Flipping the angry Hell's Angel off, I pull off into the quieter streets around my place. "It's a known fact women drivers are safer."

"You're nothing like other women." He grumbles.

"My record is spotless." I screech to a halt outside my apartment, and he exaggerates the G-force flinging forward and back into his seat and turning to me with a raised eyebrow. "I find that impossible to believe."

I lovingly caress the leather steering wheel, reluctant to get out because she feels so nice and Bunny smells so good. Fuck, they'd make a fortune if they could bottle it. Eau de QuiveringThighs. "Well believe it, buster. I've never had a ticket or a crash, not even a scratch."

"Neither had I until some fucker left a lovely dint in my door with their shitty blue car."

Oh, crapsticks. The venom in his voice makes me squirm and not in a 'I've-been-naughty spank-me-master' kind of way. Although I will recall that particular thought later.

My mind scrambles for something to change the subject. "So Batman and Throbbin. Tell me about the costume?"

"You'll come?" Fuck no.

"Umm."

The guilt for hurting his car, added to the panty-frazzling smile on his face, makes all the negative words disappear from my mind, and I find myself nodding.

* * *

The throbbing between my legs intensifies to an inferno, burning heat building as his tongue circles my sweet spot. I groan and tangle my fingers through his chaotic hair, fucking it up even more. I curse as a final flick against my clit and caress of his mouth, pulses of pleasure ripple through my whole body until I'm a shuddering mess and he's ... laughing.

As the haze of my orgasm disappears, I realise it was a dream and I'm in bed when a distinctly familiar voice bursts my bubble.

"Alice said you were a deep sleeper, but she didn't tell me you were a screamer."

I sit up, pulling the covers over my flimsy nightie. Bunny is leaning against my door frame with his arms crossed and a lazy smile on his fucking annoyingly glorious face.

Thinking I'm in some sort of waking nightmare, I blink my eyes a few times. Nope, he's still standing there. "What ... how long have you been here?"

"Long enough to want to know who Bruce is and why he's dragging you to a cave?" He smirks and raises his eyebrow waiting for the answer.

Oh, shit.

"Never mind that. What the hell are you doing in my bedroom? I'm going to add stalker to your long list of arrestable offences ... right next to indecent exposure, lewd conduct, soliciting."

He looks a bit sheepish, and I feel like running a lap of celebration around my room for the best diversion tactic ever, but I only have a partially see-through nighty with Care Bears all over it on, so I don't.

"Alice let me in and told me to wake you up."

"Yes, I gathered she's to blame. Why are you here?"

His forehead creased into a frown and it kind of looked adorable, until I grabbed hold of my sanity and slapped it. "We're going to get my costume?"

I gawp at him. "I said I'd meet you there. So why the hell have you come here?" If I just keep asking him inane questions, hopefully he'll forget he witnessed my fantasising about being ravaged in a bat cave- Bunny's bat cave. Shit.

He stands up straight, surreptitiously adjusting his cock, which makes the orgasmic flush across my chest spread to my face.

"Can you stop talking like that for five seconds?" he huffs "And your car is still at mine, so I guessed you'd need a lift."

"It's still at yours?" Wait 'til I get a hold of Dad.

"Yes, I do recall I just told you that. In fact, your wreck of a car is dripping oil all over my driveway."

I snort. "Don't talk about her like that! Just cause you've got a snazzy car, don't bash on Bettie."

"You've not even seen my new one."

"A new car?" My interest is piqued already.

"Yep it's a one of a kind edition."

I might be drooling. "What is it?"

His mouth twists into a crooked smile. "I like to call it my Batmobile."

I throw my pillow at him as hard as I can. He ducks and it flies over his head, but he gets the message loud and clear and backs out of the room. His deep laugh makes me want to disappear into the dark night far from Gotham City and its fuck hot superhero.

After a quick cold shower to douse the flames in my cheeks, I throw on some jean shorts and an old Stevie Nicks t-shirt before I stalk out of my room.

Alice is sitting on the breakfast bar with a piece of toast hanging out of her mouth. Bunny is perched on a stool next to her with his long legs stretched out, crossed at the ankle. It's not normal that a man should have the ability to remove all coherent thoughts from your mind and replace them the burning question of who'd be better in bed: Superman, Batman or Spider-Man ... and how it seems Bunny would surpass them all.

I glare at Alice before I glare at Bunny. "Let's go get your Batsuit."

* * *

I'm more than concerned when we arrived at Tickle Your Fancy, knowing Bunny's proclivities, but it turns out it's a fucking hoot and a half. I've donned a pair of ear muffs and am brandishing a squeaky gold truncheon, while I root though baskets overflowing with fun.

"Can you put that down?" Bunny snatches it out of my hand with a scowl. He's waiting for the store owner to appear with his Bat Suit.

"Why? I like it. It goes with my ear muffs." I poke my tongue out at him and pick up a plastic sword, which I wield in his direction.

He halts the blade with his arm and a sigh. "They're not ear muffs, they're Princess Leia hair buns, and they definitely don't go together."

"I'm not taking fashion advice from a man who's about two minutes away from wearing his underpants outside his clothing."

I find a pair of handcuffs and twirl them around my fingers. The shop is a virtual treasure trove as colourful costumes and accessories spill out of the wooden chests and wardrobes that fill the room.

"Ooh look, a feather duster." I reach up and tickle him with it. I'm actually having fun with Bunny. There I said it. When he's not being all porny, he's actually alright. He looks stressed at the moment though, and I start to wonder if he's panicking over his superhero pantyhose not fitting.

The man bustles out with a couple of Batman suits, and Bunny dumps his messenger bag on the floor next to me and disappears into a changing room. I'm considering getting ready to take some pictures of him when his phone starts ringing.

"Can you see who that is, Fluff?" He calls from behind the red curtain.

I roll my eyes at my irritating nickname, rummaging around in his bag until I find his phone. "It's a withheld number."

"Can you answer it and take a message?"

I stand there with my mouth hanging open in shock until I snap it shut with a huff. Who does he think I am his fucking secretary?

"Hello, Rampant Rabbit's phone?" There's silence on the line before a woman asks to speak to Edward.

"I'm afraid he can't come to the phone right now, he's having a dress fitting for his latest bonk buster. Can I ask who's calling?"

I think I might pass out when she speaks again.

Bunny wrenches the curtain back and I'm face to face with the Caped Cooch Crusader. His eyes, visible through his black mask, are wide with murderous disbelief.

I hold the phone out to him. "It's your mom."

* * *

**A/N: So is seems like 99.9% of you want on the list to be Bunny's fluffer and/or Catwoman? We'll have to see what we can do.**

**Thank You so much for reading, we love each and every one of your reviews you might actually kill us from laughing at some of them.**

**A-JASPER-FOR-ME and Grnidgrl make sure Bunny's behaving. We fluff them a lot.**

**Come chat with us on facebook or twitter - our links are on our profile page.**

**Love Sparrow & Choc xox**


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13 - Buttman Forever**

**EPOV**

"What's a bonk-buster?" My mom's voice echoes through the earpiece of my cell. "And who was that girl?"

I decide to answer the easiest question first.

"That was Bella." I turn to glare at Fluff, then instantly look away. The lycra of my batsuit is already stretched thinly over my crotch, if I get any harder, I'm scared the seams will tear. "She's my ... ahm..." I try to think of how to describe our relationship without ending up with another knee in the groinals.

"Girlfriend?" My mom hopefully suggests.

"My girlfriend?" I echo, and try not to laugh when I see Bella frantically shaking her head. "No, she isn't my girlfriend."

"Who is she then?"

"She's my fl-" Just as I'm about to say it, Fluff whacks me on the head with the blunt end of the feather duster. I decide to rephrase. "My flatmate."

"Is she English or something?" Mom asks, "Or do you mean roommate?"

Bella starts to mutter something, and I feel cornered like a rat. My mom is babbling down the line in my left ear, and Bella is whispering angry words in the right. I glance at her placatingly, not knowing what I've done wrong this time, but assuming that whatever it is, it's my fault. She licks her lips as she stares at me through wide eyes, and I'm a moment away from dropping the phone and pulling her into my arms. I wanna tongue fuck the snarkiness right out of her pretty mouth

Mom raises her voice to try and win back my attention. "I'm planning on flying down on Saturday, so I guess I'll meet her then."

"Ahm, you're coming to visit next week?" I clarify, turning my head to ignore the evil stare Fluff is shooting at me. "Of course, I'm sure you'll meet Bella."

Her face is a picture. Maybe a little less Mona Lisa and a little more Munsch's The Scream, but a picture nonetheless. She is glaring at me, her mouth open, her eyes wide with horror and I'm torn between laughing and covering my junk.

Which, incidentally, is twitching again. I don't know what sort of pheromones she's giving off, but I want to bottle them and sniff them continuously at the studio.

Or just kidnap her. Either would work.

When I end the call, I turn to catch Bella's eye, and she is standing there, her hands on her hips, her head shaking slowly from side to side.

"Oh no, Bunny, you didn't just say what I thought you did."

I have two options. I can agree with her and get hit for being a liar, or I can disagree and get hit for not only disagreeing with her, but admitting that I told my mom Bella was my roommate. It's a perfect lose-lose situation.

"It's just for a few days." Okay, so Mom's planning to visit for a week. Bella doesn't need to know this, does she?

"But why did you tell her I'm your roommate, doesn't she know you live in a fucktastic bungalow in Brentwood? Do you expect me to move into the Porn Palace with you?"

I laugh and shake my head. "Oh no, I'll move in with you."

"But ... but ..." she stutters, looking so cute and confused. "Where the hell will you sleep? You've seen my place, there's only two bedrooms."

My dick stands to attention as I think of the possibilities, and we both look down when we hear a ripping sound. Another one bites the dust. I wonder if I can claim it as a tax write off.

Her mouth gapes open again, and I try not to picture the way her lips would look and feel on my dick, but fail miserably. If she sucks as good as she talks, I'd be gone in sixty seconds.

That isn't a title of one of my movies, thank fuck, but if I don't do anything about this soon, it could be.

I try to change the subject quickly. "Alice can move into my crib for a few days. I'll take her room." There, sorted. I can't see any possible problem with this plan. I amaze myself sometimes with my brilliance. Perhaps once I get put out to pasture, I should sign up to join the CIA. I played the role so well in Men in Black ...

"No fucking way." The way her lips curl around the oath makes me hard as steel. It's starting to hurt. "You don't have a chance in hell of moving into my house. It was bad enough waking up to find you there this morning." Her cheeks flush a bright, shocking, red, and I'm transported back to this morning.

I swallow hard and bring myself back to the present. I'm going to have to throw myself on her mercy. It's only a few days until my mom is due to arrive, and we have a lot of sorting to do if we're going to make this work. "Look, the truth is, my mom doesn't know I'm a porn star," I admit, and try to ignore her face lighting up with glee. "She thinks I'm a starving actor, and I can't let her see my place, okay?"

There's an all-out grin spread across Fluff's face, and I start to feel scared. As much as I want to fuck the living daylights out of her, I'm beginning to suspect she's just as crazy as Alice.

"So how are you going to hide the fact you're spending all day dressed in Lycra when she's here?" She starts to laugh.

"I'll, ah, tell her I'm filming the new Batman movie."

"Like you're Christian Bale's stunt double?" she snorts.

I like this chick, she has some good ideas. I nod encouragingly.

"What if she wants to come and watch you film?"

Oh fuck, I hadn't thought of that. Luckily Fluff has three days to think up a good excuse for me. I nod sagely. "We'll work that one out."

"_We_?" Her eyebrows rise up. She's almost at bitch brow level.

"Yes, Fluff, _'we_'. You're the one who answered the phone and told her I'm in a new film. I usually just serve her shit at Starbucks when she visits."

Bella grabs at her stomach and doubles over. She's laughing so hard I'm scared she's going to do herself an injury. I watch her for a minute, folding my arms across my chest, and wait for her to calm down.

"Okay, okay. I'm definitely in. I can't wait to see her face when you show her the costume."

I'm starting to wonder if this is a good idea, because Bella seems way too pleased with herself. I have to steel myself when she opens her mouth to continue.

"I'll let you move in on one proviso."

I nod in agreement, not needing to know what her rules are. She has me over a barrel, and I'm thinking I might like it.

"Okay."

She starts to giggle again, stumbling over her words in an effort to get them out. "If you insist on inviting your mom over, then I'm definitely asking my dad to join us for dinner."

And there it is. Every nightmare a porn star can have, all rolled into one neat, Bella Swan-sized package.

Mom.

Charlie Swan.

Batman.

And me.

* * *

**A/N Thanks to A-Jasper-For-Me and Pates Greeneyes for everything.**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing. We want to invite you all over for a bumper Bunny Marathon. You bring the popcorn.  
**

**Want to talk? Come chat with us on Facebook or twitter - our links are on the profile page. See you next time, Choc and Sparrow xx**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 - Porn on the Fourth of July**

**BPOV**

* * *

Bunny and I are standing in front of a Spanish Inquisition that consists of a make-up artist with an unhealthy obsession with hair dye and an adult movie producer wearing a t-shirt that says 'Always gargle after teabagging'.

Alice twirls a piece of orange-dipped magenta hair around her finger as she appraises us. She turns to Jasper who has gotten sidetracked with the conversation and is making a meal out of eating a pistachio. "What do you think?"

"I think it's a brilliant idea." He goes back to trying to pry the shell open, resorting to using his credit card as a lever.

"It's the worst idea." I remind everyone in the room for the three hundredth time.

"It's only for a few days." Bunny responds, his eyes bugging out at Jasper, who he's trying to send a subliminal message via the use of his eyebrows. He's not catching on.

"I suppose it would be nice to stay in the big house." Alice still addresses Jasper, who fist pumps as half of the shell pings across the room, but then grimaces and spits out the rotten nut into his hand.

"That would definitely be nice." He grins at her and winks, pulling a giggle from Alice and sending her totally off track.

"We can go in the hot tub whenever we want!" she squeals.

"Do you know how many diseases are in there?" I look at her like she's certifiably crazy. I wouldn't go near that thing with a barge pole.

Bunny huffs and turns to me, glaring. "Look, Fluff, this is all your fault. I'm moving in. Alice doesn't have a problem with it. We're going to play Happy Fucked-Up Families and you are going to be the best roommate any man could ask for, and incidentally, there are no nasties in the hot tub. If there are, you can blame your dad."

Alice squeaks, slapping her hand over her mouth, Bunny's eyes widen and Jasper pauses mid-nut-shuck with his mouth hanging open, while Bunny's words seem to echo around the room like a death knell.

Bunny's death knell.

Dad was in the hot tub.

The hot tub at the Palace of Porn.

The one swimming with women whose names were as ridiculous as their bra sizes.

Dad was in Bunny's motherfucking hot tub.

I cross my arms over my chest and turn to face Bunny, who looks like he's about to have a panic attack. Scrabbling noises and curses alert me that Alice and Jasper have managed to escape from the shitstorm that's about to hit.

"Was there an issue with the filtration system?" I ask him calmly. There must be a simple explanation.

"Erm … no."

"Was someone drowning?"

"Erm … well, I—"

"Bunny." I growl his name out, mollified for a second by the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps.

"Nope ... no one was drowning."

"So he didn't need to rescue anyone to give them the kiss of life." I'm rapidly running out of genuine reasons my dad would have felt the need to get into a boiling tub of jizim.

"Well … not while I was there." He backs up against the breakfast bar.

I stalk after him, enunciating each word with a stab of my finger into his firm chest. "Tell. Me. What. Happened."

My body's responses to the information Bunny spews out of his mouth range from murderous rage, embarrassment, disbelief and finally horror—then I lose my shit.

Once I calm down enough to think straight, a dastardly plan begins to form. I swallow the maniacal Cruella de Ville laugh and calmly tell him, "You can move in this afternoon."

Then I walk into my bedroom and close the door with an evil grin on my face, until a vision of my dad canoodling with Beverly Hills nearly brings my dinner up.

* * *

Bunny lines out at least fifty bottles of toiletries, making my paltry skin care selection look positivity pathetic.

"You can't seriously use all that stuff." I scoff over his shoulder. I was following him around the apartment like a prison warden, watching his every move to make sure he didn't touch any of my stuff, and because he smells really nice.

"It's better than using soap and water." He waves at mine with a look of distaste. "and whatever that is."

"Some of us don't need products to make us look good." I did. I really, really did, but there's a difference between having a nice selection and a whole frigging department store in your bathroom.

He anally organizes them into sections.

"What are you doing?" I peer around his shoulder. Spotting our reflections in the mirror, I cringe a little. He's definitely too good looking for his own good, and I'm already planning to lock myself in the bathroom and use every single one of his products to see if I can at least look like a human being stood next to him.

"Hair, face, body." He points at the three distinct sections.

"Hair?" I scrunch my nose at him. "You actually take time to make it look like that?"

"Why what's wrong with it?" He dips down into the mirror and rearranges a few hairs into place. It looks exactly the same.

"Nothing. It just looks like you climbed out of bed and left it like that."

He points to his fucked-up hair and gives me a look like I'm the biggest idiot on the planet. "It takes time and patience to get it to look this good."

And it did look good. In fact, it was fucking awesome. "It looks like you've been stuck in a wind tunnel and people have been holding onto to your hair to stop themselves from being blown away."

"I have a feeling you meant that to be an insult, but the look I'm aiming for _does_ involve people hanging onto it for dear life, but they're definitely not in wind tunnel, and I'd prefer if it's me that's getting blown." He winks and walks past me to implant more 'Bunny things' around our apartment.

"Oh my God, I can't do this." I talk to the reflection looking back at me but her red cheeks, glowing skin and dazed brown eyes mock me. I am so fucked.

* * *

He's got to go out this evening to some industry event but I hide in my bedroom. The smell of his cologne wafting under the door is enough to make me want to strip off and jump him. If I see him in a tuxedo, I can't be held responsible for my actions.

The minute I hear the door close, I peer out into the silent apartment and tiptoe into the bathroom. I spend the next hour slathering every single lotion and potion over me, careful to place his bottles back exactly as they were. By the time I go to bed, I'm totally off my tits on his scent and I don't look half bad. My skin is as soft as a baby's bottom and my hair is almost as shiny as Jai's.

A loud crash and a familiar bass line shocks me out of my sleep, the glowing alarm clock tells me it's too fucking late for this interruption, so I jump out of bed to find out why the hell Bunny is playing Funky Cold Medina at full volume in MY apartment in the middle of the night.

I fling my door open and stalk into the hallway, knocking on the living room door. There's no answer so I rap my knuckles harder and call his name. Still nothing. Fucking hell.

I shove the handle down, ready to give him hell. When the door swings open, Tone-Loc blasts over me in a wave, and the sight that greets me steals the words right out of my mouth.

Holy fucking hell in a hand basket.

* * *

**A/N Thanks to A-Jasper-For-Me and Grnidgirl for their beta'ing and pre-reading skills.**

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	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15 - Indiana Bones in the Temple of June**

**EPOV**

"What the hell are you playing at?" Fluff stalks into the room and turns off the Funky Cold Medina, a furious expression plastered to her pretty face. I'm so mesmerised by her anger, it takes me a moment to realize exactly what she's wearing.

Or rather, what she isn't.

Her ass is barely covered by her tight red boy-shorts, and her tits definitely aren't obscured by the handkerchief she is wearing for a top. I start to feel a little over-dressed for the occasion.

"Oh my God, Bunny, what the fuck do you look like?"

My first thought is my hair. I raise my hand and pat it surreptitiously, aware I'm forever treading the thin line between just-fucked and fucked-up. But it seems okay to me, a little messy maybe, but girls seem to like that.

As always, she can't tear her eyes away from my body, and I feel a smirk pull at the corners of my lips. I must really turn her on.

My smugness lasts for exactly two seconds, until she bursts out laughing hysterically and points at me. Now I know how guys with small dicks must feel, and I don't like it one bit. What the hell is so funny about my choice of sleepwear? I'm sitting on her cheap leather sofa, wondering what the hell I've managed to do wrong this time.

Fuck it, Jasper and I had this discussion before I moved in. He'd told me sitting around in the house at night naked was frowned on by muggles, particularly those who you've already waggled your dick in front of.

Many times.

There followed an in-depth analysis of the merits of various types of sleepwear, Jasper-style, which meant I had to sit and watch him model different outfits, his ass wiggling as he attempted a mock-catwalk down the centre of my living room. I wasn't sure what was more disturbing, his mincing gait, or the monologue he kept up as he modelled each look.

"Boxers - not enough coverage, and may be seen as an attempt to brag. I suggest you keep these for those more intimate moments, Bunny."

"Pajama pants, too 1970s. You don't want to remind her of her dad-particularly after the curious incident of the dog in the hot tub. Has she forgiven you for that yet?"

Well, no. Not really.

When he came out in a luminous green g-string and started to extoll the virtues of having your crack flossed while slumbering in your bed, I tried to call a halt to the whole endeavor.

Eventually he suggested post-modern and iconic, with a cool twist. Jasper looked a bit of a dick when he modelled it, but I shrugged, assuming Bella would never get a chance to see me in my sleepwear anyway.

Best laid plans of bunnies and men, eh?

"Oh my God, Edward! You look like a life-size rampant rabbit." Bella manages to splutter before wiping at the tears pouring down her soft cheeks. "Turn around," she commands, then chokes up again when she sees the pom-pom attached to my ass.

I'm going to kill Jasper. He assured me a fluffy bunny onesie would be the perfect blend of sexy and lovable. Now I just feel like a giant dick.

A rock-hard, giant dick.

"Can you take it off?" she asks, when she's managed to calm herself down, "I'd rather you sit here naked than have to look at that monstrosity." Bella gestures in my direction, trying to sound magnanimous.

I feel a throb of excitement as she stares at me. Smiling nonchalantly, I pull down the zip. Her eyes widen as my chest is revealed, and I'm reminded tomorrow night is waxing night. The onesie gapes open and I step out of it. I swear she looks almost disappointed when she sees I'm wearing a pair of black silk boxers.

I kinda like that.

"I'm sorry I woke you up. I was just trying to chill out, I can't sleep," I admit, and a flash of sympathy crosses her face.

"Have you got insomnia?"

"No!" I reply instantly, wounded, then add a little white lie. "I've never had a problem getting it up."

She rolls her eyes and it makes me want to suck her face. "I said insomnia, not impotency. It's when you can't sleep, you goof."

I shudder hard. Saying 'impotence' to a porn star is like saying 'Macbeth' in a theatre, and I'm certain it will be followed by seven years bad luck. But all I have to do is look down and see the outline of my hard dick tenting the black silk, and I grin inanely, my equanimity restored.

"I have never seen a man more proud of his cock," Bella mutters, but she doesn't manage to drag her eyes away. "You're like a first grader with a shiny new toy."

She's right about the shininess. I pay particular attention to my rod of steel, and hygiene is always my first priority. For a moment I wonder if I should show her, but then I remember the way she reacted when I suggested she could fluff me, and I pat it carefully, like a much-loved pet, and silently promise to protect it from the evil queen and her bony knees.

Bella huffs again and picks up the remote control, turning the TV on and flicking until she find something she likes the look of. She walks back to the sofa and sits down, curling her legs beneath her. She's a couple of feet away from me, and I try to shuffle across to get closer, but the sticky leather of the seat sticks to the hairs on the back of my thighs and I scream like a girl having a Brazilian, causing Bella to jump out of her skin.

When she comes back down to Earth, it's had the desired effect of getting her nearer to me. We sit in companionable silence watching a re-run of Friends, and when the talk turns to Chandler's third nipple, Bella turns to me, her eyebrows pulled down into a frown.

"Have you ever seen anybody with a nubbin?"

I think for a moment, realizing this is the first time she's ever really asked me about my job. I need to tread carefully, knowing if I go too far, she'll get all girly and squeamish again, and I'll be back to square one.

"I know of a guy with a third gonad," I suggest helpfully, "we call him 'Goldenballs'."

She pulls her nose up slightly. "Does it look weird?"

I splutter loudly. "I don't go around checking out guys' ball sacks, Bella." Although I have to admit, I secretly take a look at the size of their dicks.

I take a professional interest in the competition.

"But you _do_ stare at girls' tits every day." Her voice is only a murmur, and I'm not sure if I'm supposed to hear it. There isn't much I can say in reply, so we look away from each other, and I move my hand under me so I can't reach out and touch her.

Oh fuck, do I want to touch her. I want to do more than touch her, I want to ravish every inch of her skin until she's chanting my name and begging me for more. I want to hear her growl while I push myself inside her and make her clench deliciously.

I know exactly what this is. I've read the books-or at least seen the porn parodies. She's the beautiful, wholesome girl, and I'm the ugly creature who doesn't deserve her. I'm Quasimodo, or Frankenstein, or maybe the evil vampire that only has to take one look at the vestal virgin to fall in love.

_Love_? Holy shit, where did that word come from? I check my groin area, and am reassured when I see my dick is still attached, because I'm starting to wonder if I'm turning into a girl.

I've never understood love. I mean, I love my mom, and feel an unreasonable attachment to my Chevelle, but when it comes to girls, love is a foreign language. I've watched friends leave the business because their girlfriends or wives have got them by the balls, and I've laughed, declaring I'll never let a girl come between me and my work. But looking at Bella Swan in profile, her lips open and smiling as she watches Joey make a dick of himself, I start to wonder if she has me by the short and curlies too.

I cup my groin again, reassured by the bulk of it against my palm, then look up to meet Bella's brown eyes staring down at my hand, her lids hooded, as she pants out harsh breaths.

Oh yeah, she likes that.

Fluff is a voyeur, and she's getting a kick out of me touching my dick. I curl my fingers a little more, until I'm almost grasping it through the thin fabric of my shorts. I keep my hand still, though the sensation shooting down through my balls makes me want to jack-off like a madman.

"You wanna watch something else?" My voice is deep and gruff.

She takes a moment to compose herself, avoiding my eyes, before answering, "Like what?"

I sit back and consider the options. I might have brought a little selection of DVDs with me for just such an occasion. I sense she is more of a m/f girl than a group chick, but the choice is limited, so I stick to the theme of the evening.

"I've got an old movie of mine in my room, and I think you'll like it. It's called 'Moanica and Rachelle do Friends'."

* * *

**A/N Thanks to A-Jasper-For-Me and Pates Greeneyes for their expert eyes.**

**Thank you for reading, and for your reviews, you make us happier than a man with three balls.  
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	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 - Beverly Hill's Cocks**

**BPOV**

I'm going to say it.

I'm actually going to say the words that are the first step on the road to hell.

Bunny is watching me, eyes pleading and cock in hand as I open my mouth to agree to watch a movie with him. It must be my lucky day because the Patron Saint of lost causes intervenes—leading me back to the straight and narrow, away from the long hard and wide—when a piercing electronic ringtone spills into the room.

Bunny scrambles to reach his phone, and holds it in his hand. I've never seen someone with so much hatred towards a cell phone before. Apart from maybe myself when during the longest game of Snake known to man, the screen froze. I still feel a burning hatred towards Nokia for cheating me out of the accolade of holding a Guinness World Record.

"Seriously, Bright Eyes is your ring tone?" I snorted, " Are you going to answer it or not?"

"It's Jasper." He responds as if that explains everything. I suppose in a way it does. He still makes no move to answer it, hanging onto the last thread of his chance to get me right where he wants me-on his cock. Which is exactly where I would have ended up.

I grab the phone out of his hand and answer it. "Hello?"

"Bunny?" Jasper asks, perplexed.

"It's Bella. Bunny is …"

"Ohhhh that did not take long. Jasper is impressed with Bunny's Bow-chikka wow-wow." He chuckles at his own dire joke.

"Can you tell Alice that Bunny has not had his bow or his wow-wow anywhere near my chikka," I answer as I hear Alice shrieking in the background, which funnily enough, matches the shriek of my guilty conscious.

Her shriek and the scowl on my face snaps Bunny out of his cockblock crisis and he holds his hand out for the phone.

I don't get a chance to give it him before Alice fires a thousand and one questions down the line at me. The main topic being my sex life.

"Nope Alice, I didn't." I answer aware of Bunny's suddenly alert eyes resting on my face—if your face is defined as the area from your eyes to your nipples.

"Well why not?" she asks and I can hear the twang of disappointment in her tone.

"Why do you think?" I eye Bunny again, he's still holding his cock like some sort of comfort blanket.

"I don't know, you tell me. Alice wants to hear it from the horse's mouth." I'm not sure which part of her response I want to analyse first, the fact she's talking in the third person as well, or that I've been referred to as a horse. I can just imagine the pair of them playing house in some kind of weird role play. "Jasper would like Alice to pass him the salt and the peppermill that handily doubles up as a dildo."

"Well he's … umm …" I search for something inconspicuous to say. Alice's copy of Summer Sizzling Short Sexy Stories gives me inspiration. "Been on more vacations than anyone else I've ever met."

"Vacations?"

"Yes, he's collected enough frequent flier miles to continually circle the world for at least the next ten years."

"What the hell are you talking about. Are you drunk? I want to know why you've not hopped on Bunny." I hear Alsper dissolve into giggles and it's hard to tell which girlie noise belongs to who. Bunny is frowning at me as if he's trying to decide whether I'm a little kooky, or just plain mental.

"Yes, I know what you're saying but not many people have visited so many ... resorts ... I mean, Jesus, he's a big fan of island hopping."

"Are we still talking about Bunny here? I'm so confused."

"Yes we are, I'm just telling you why I'm not planning to go to the travel agents anytime soon. I mean he likes … to go around the world … and umm ... I'm not sure I'm entirely comfortable with that. I'm erm … more of a home bird." I need to wrap up this conversation.

"Are you talking about anal sex?" Well she got that one.

"Yes and just think of all the vaccinations I'll need." I'm on a roll now.

"You don't need any. He gets tested regularly and he's not performed for a while now." She informs me as if Bunny's sexual health is something they've been discussing in the getting-to -know-you phase of their relationship along with favourite cereals and first kisses. "He's having a bit of trouble getting it up."

I just about choke on my laughter. "Well that's good to know, but are you an expert in those kind of tropical diseases? Because from what I can see, he has a very bad case of the exact opposite disease to which you are referring".

Trouble getting it up. I'd never heard anything so ridiculous. The man could probably row to Timbuktu using it as an oar.

"Bunny's got a tropical disease? Oh my God like Malaria or that thing where a bug buries into your skin and grows into an monster that come out of your stomach?" She gasps and I can hear a heated debate on the other end of the line.

"Um no, I think you've gone off on a tangent into the plotline of Alien." Bunny perks up at this and I just know he's going to tell me he's raided Sigourney's Beaver. I lean forward and slap my hand across his mouth, shaking my head at him. I try so hard not to feel his lips and warm breath in my palm and how my mouth would be a much better silencer.

"Look Alice, I don't think he's into long haul flights. He's a bigger fan of road trips, ones that stop in every single city, town, and gas station along the way, and I … get car sick. So I will love you and leave you, unless there was a reason you rang in the middle of the night?" I add.

"Ummm ..." I hear shuffling and whispers in the background. "Jasper just wanted to tell Bunny there was a minor fire at his place. But don't worry we've got it under control and the fire-fighters have given his house the all clear. His bedroom is out of action for the next couple of weeks though."

"What? Are you okay? How the hell did this happen?" I drop my hand from Bunny's mouth and he sits forward so our faces are inches away from each other, and to keep my balance, I have to grab onto his thigh. His firm muscles flex under my palm, and something that looks a lot like lust flashes across his face, but it's quickly replaced by horror when I relay Alice's explanation.

"Your revolving bed has short-circuited, and it's set fire to your room."

* * *

**A/N A-Jasper-For-Me and Pates Greeneyes polish our words until they're shinier than Bunny's scepter. Thank you ladies!**

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	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17 - Romancing the Bone**

**EPOV**

I'm finding it hard to sleep. It's not just the lumpiness of Alice's bed that keeps me tossing and turning, but the memory of Fluff's swollen lips as she stared at me when I mentioned watching porn together. My dick is so hard, it's painful. I'm desperate to touch it, but the knowledge I'm lying in Crazy Alice`s bed is enough to keep my hands firmly glued to my side.

There's a knock on my door and Bella pops her head around the corner, looking almost disappointed when she sees I'm covered up and decent.

"My dad just called, Bettie`s still in the shop. Can you give me a lift to class?"

I sit up, running a hand through my completely un-fucked hair, glancing at Alice`s alarm clock to see it's the middle of the goddamned night. Who the hell gets up before nine?

"Do you take night classes or something?" I lie back down and pull Alice's Justin Bieber coverlet over my head, trying to ignore the fact Fluff is shouting at me through the eiderdown, pummelling the quilt with her scrunched up fists.

"Get the hell up, Bunny! It's your fault I have no car."

"How'd you figure that one out?" I scratch my head and watch, perplexed, as she curls her fingers around Bieber`s head and yanks the cover off like a magician. Her look of glee swiftly turns into horror when she realises what she has done.

So yeah, I like to sleep naked.

I may have rubbed my body around the sheets a little, in retaliation for Alsper's total destruction of my revolving bed.

Bella's face flames and she drops to her knees, scrabbling around on the bedroom floor, desperately trying to pick the Bieber up. She's flustered enough to drop him a few times, though from the inane grin covering his ass-wipe face, I don't think he really cares.

"Fucking juvenile squeaky-voiced singer," she mutters as she finally covers up my crown jewels. I guess she isn't a Belieber.

I drag my ass out of bed when she leaves, ducking into the bathroom, picking up the bottles I need for my daily routine.

When I wet my hair, and go to pour shampoo into my palm, my bottle of Atlerna Ten is empty.

Fucking Fluff.

No wonder she looked so good last night. Her hair was all kinds of sixty-dollar-bottle shiny. I'm torn between running my fingers through it and pulling it until she winces. Nobody steals Bunny's goodies.

Feeling pissed as hell, I grab a half-empty bottle of strawberry shower gel and rub it into my hair. I smell like a girl in a romance novel. It's a good job I'm tall enough for nobody to sniff me, the way I like to inhale Fluff.

_Down boy._

The drive to Bella's college building is short. I park up in the lot, and walk around to let her out, thanking God today is the last day I have to drive around in Jasper's wank-mobile. The only cloud on my little horizon is the knowledge I'll have to face Charlie Swan tomorrow when I go pick up my Chevelle. I'm not sure who will be the most embarrassed.

As I walk around to Fluff's side and open her door, I'm bowled over by a flash of orange flesh, only just managing to stay upright as the whirlwind comes to a stop beside the car. She's like a cross between a Tasmanian devil and an oompah-loompah. It takes me a moment to realize the vibrating ball of energy is actually a person.

"Hey Gretchen." Fluff acknowledges the human orange standing next to me. Gretchen wears a skirt only an inch below her fanny-base, a tight white tank and a purple wig that's off-center, hanging too long on the right. She must be seventy if she's a day.

"Bella, darling!" she exclaims with a thick German accent. "I'm in so much trouble."

While she's talking to Fluff, Gretchen moves closer to me, and I cower against the car, knowing there's nowhere else to go. Her wrinkled body is almost touching mine and I want to scream out loud. There's a reason I don't do granny porn.

"What's up?" Fluff glances up at me and away again. There's not a hint of sympathy there. It's like she can't see my plight.

"My life model has cancelled. The day has turned to shit. He was fucking gorgeous too." Gretchen sounds more than disappointed. "Though not as beautiful as this fine specimen." She reaches out a bony hand and pinches my cheek. I have to bite my lip not to shriek. I haven't been this frightened since I found a DVD of 'Airtight Granny' under Jasper's bed.

"This is Edward. Edward, this is Gretchen. She's my sculpting teacher."

Gretchen pushes her pigeon-like chest out and licks her dry, wrinkled lips. I swear she's staring at me like I'm something to eat. "I recognize you from somewhere, darling. Are you in the business?"

When people mention 'the business' they usually mean movies. Just not _my_ kind of movies.

"I ... ahm ... yeah, kinda."

"Another one of those poor, starving actors?" She flicks her eyes over Jasper's Mustang. "With seriously bad taste in cars?"

"Not mine." I mutter.

"Edward does a lot of nude work," Bella interjects, then turns away, her eyes wide at her own word-vomit.

"Is that so?" Gretchen's eyes narrow, and she tips her head to the side. I suspect she's trying to look coy, but all she does is move her wig even further to the right. She's starting to remind me of Selma from the Simpsons. She just needs to light a cigarette and her look would be complete.

"I've done a little modelling." Why did I say that? Why?

Gretchen's eyes light up like a football field on Friday night. She runs her gaze up and down my body a couple of times, then reaches out and feels my abs. I flinch away, tensing at her touch and she smiles wickedly, pinching harder.

"You've got the body of an Adonis. You'll do."

"He'll do what?" Fluff's voice sounds panicky now. Her agitation alarms me. This is going to be bad.

"I've gotta go, actually." I try to squeeze my way past her, but Gretchen puts her other hand out and gets me in a lock Hulk Hogan would be proud of. I start to thrash, trying to get out of her grasp. I want my mom.

"Stay," she commands. "I need a model."

"He's not available." Bella shoots me a concerned glance. I try to smile through the pain. Gretchen releases her hold on my neck and I rub the skin tenderly. She has amazing strength for her age. I'm literally quaking in my size twelve boots.

"Of course he is." Gretchen grabs hold of my arm and marches me to the college building. I scramble around for my keys and lock Jasper's car. I'd hate for anyone to steal his pile of crap. It's embarrassing enough being seen with it, let alone having to contact the police if it gets jacked. I don't want to take that chance.

"But ..." I try to think of a good excuse. I'm up way earlier than I'd planned, my mom doesn't arrive til tomorrow afternoon, and I sit around naked for a living. I don't even have to worry about getting hard.

Unless Fluff is in the room.

"I can't sculpt Bunny!" Bella protests, and I wince as Gretchen laughs throatily.

"He's your Bunny? How sweet." We've reached the sculpting room, and Gretchen pulls the door open, revealing a class full of students standing in front of these strange three-legged tables. Each of them has a shiny, pale ball of clay in front of them, and they glance up expectantly as we walk into the room.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. I'm running late." Gretchen pulls her bra strap up from her saggy orange arm. "Bunny is just going to get changed."

"Bunny's doing no such thing." Bella protests, and it's my turn to shoot her a grateful look.

"He is if you want to pass this class, Miss Swan. Now get to it, Edward. I wanna see your goodies." Gretchen shoves me into a closet and slams the door in my face. It's cold and dark, the only illumination coming from the cracks above and below the door. I stand still for a moment and try to work out what the hell to do.

"Bunny?" Fluff's voice whispers tremulously through the keyhole. I lean forward to try and make out her words. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but if you do me this favor, I'll owe you big time. I can't afford to fail this class."

She sounds so forlorn I want to slam open the door and drag her in with me. I've got the urge to give the girl a big hug. A big, wet, juicy hug. Maybe with a little penetration.

"If I do this for you," I whisper back, pulling down the zipper of my jeans, "then you have to promise to come to work with me sometime."

She's silent for a moment. I take the opportunity to pull off all my clothes, placing them on the little stool at the back of the closet. I look around desperately, certain there should be a robe here somewhere. It feels strange, having to walk out of the closet naked, my dick swinging for all the class to see. Which is weird, because I do that stuff for a living.

What the hell is Fluff doing to me?

"Okay." Bella's voice is faint as she replies, and I yank the door open to catch her eye. Instead I find Gretchen, standing with her hands on her hips, her face only inches away from my naked body.

"Oh my." Her mouth falls open, and her expression is one of pure shock. "I think we're going to need a lot more clay."

* * *

**A/N Thanks to A-Jasper-For-Me and Grnidgirl for their help, and for all the giggles.**

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	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18 - The Jungle Fuck**

**BPOV**

* * *

I keep my eyes firmly fixed on the mound of clay in front of me to avoid the inevitable fact I'm going to be fixing them on something firm in my near future. I can't quite believe this is happening to me, but I am thankful at least it's Bunny sitting up there naked. He doesn't seem to have an ounce of insecurity, and as I flick my eyes up to see him splayed out in all his glory, I can see why.

Gretchen is yanking on his arm to get him into a position that makes me want to nip down to the local store for a bunch of grapes to hand feed him. He is nothing less than a god, laying on a red velvet chaise longue with his arm flung behind his head, gripping onto the gilded edge. I keep my eyes firmly fixed on his torso, knowing _it_ is right there. I only have to move my eyes a millimeter to see it. I can't look. Can I? Okay, maybe I can. I mean I need a good grade, and a sculpture without the correct anatomy will only get me a C at best. Can I pass with a C? Probably not. Oh, Christ. I'm gonna have to look.

Bunny moves his mouth and catches my eye. I can't see what he's trying to say, but his lips look perfectly full and kissable as he mouths something about rowing him. I shake my head at him minutely that I haven't got a clue, and he rolls his eyes, turning to cover his face with his elbow.

I chance a glance.

"Bella, my dear, are you going to start? You've been sitting there for the past ten minutes with your mouth wide open. Are you hoping to catch flies or are you going to sculpt our young and virile model?" Gretchen yells from the other side of the room, making me want to disappear into a black hole.

She's lying because there is no way I've wasted ten minutes of my life looking at Bunny's cock, but the round face of the clock hanging above the classroom door tells me I have. Oh, God.

"Erm … I was working out the proportions." I stutter out to the sound of Bunny's snort, and begin loosening the clay in my hands.

The only way to get through this is to focus on the feel of the cool and smooth clay as I work it, molding it to the shape of his round, muscular shoulders with my thumbs, using my palms to taper his waist to the 'v' dipping at his hips. I create his taut muscles with my fingers, the definition of his thighs, shaping the curve of his bottom with my tongue, and feeling the thick, smooth clay as I slide it between my lips, tasting his sweet skin as I suck … wait … what?

Oh, my God.

I feel my face flush as I hurriedly finish off the piece. Trying to recall his body from memory is no less arousing than the real life picture in front of me.

"Well done class. Thank you, Edward. You can go and get dressed now." I hear Gretchen say, but I keep my eyes on my piece. It's not bad. I breathe a relieved sigh, and see Bunny's bare feet out of the corner of my eye.

I will him to keep walking, but he leans over my shoulder, his breath tickling the shell of my ear as he whispers. "Pretty good, Fluff, but you've got the proportions all wrong."

"What?" I twist around and look up with a scowl, opening my mouth to give him a piece of my mind. I realize too late that I'm sat down, he's naked, and it wouldn't only take one step for him to shut me up. He wouldn't even have to speak, his cock would do all the talking. He's not oblivious either and his reaction causes me to sit back and cover my face lest I lose an eye.

"I'm … I'll be right back." I hear the slap of his bare feet as he runs into the cupboard, peeking between my fingers to check he's gone before I dare uncover my face fully. I start to pack away my kit, placing the sculpture on a table along the wall, making a mental note to sneak back in and get it once Bunny's out of sight. I'm having that on display, I decide, it's one of my favorite pieces.

Out of proportion my ass.

* * *

That evening we drive over to Bunny's place. Standing in his destroyed bedroom, we stare at what's left of the bed. Alsper persuaded us to come over for game night, presumably to lighten the blow of Bunny's bedroom looking like a set from Backdraft. I'd attempted numerous excuses, but washing my hair didn't cut it. Especially when Bunny hinted that my hair looked really good, and asked me what products I'd used. Damn him.

"So tell me again, Jazz. What happened?" Bunny pinches his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

"We were in the kitchen making a bundt cake when the smoke alarm went off. When we ran in, your bed was on fire, so I threw a bucket of water on it and Alice called the fire department." Jasper explains. His expression is uber serious, in contrast to the tie-dyed bandana wrapped around his head. "There was no one in here, but when we first ran in, I definitely saw that book on the table move at least twelve inches to the left, so … and I hate to tell you this, but … I think we might have a poltergeist."

I can't help the laugh that bubbles up. "You two sure like to exaggerate." I quirk my eyebrow at Bunny, who ignores me and after hanging his head and rubbing his temples, he turns his attention back to Jasper.

"You realize the most unbelievable part of your story was that you were making a bundt cake." He sighs and starts picking through the melted pile of DVD's that are stuck to what was once a lovely cream shag carpet. I feel a bit sorry for him, so I help collect up the ones that managed to escape relatively unscathed.

"Really, I swear it. You can have a slice if you want." Jasper offers, but when he gets no response, he slumps his shoulders and leaves to finish setting up the games in the front room.

"Here you go." I hand a pile over to him, my eyes landing on the yellow lettering on the front of the top one—a clever spin on The Whole Nine Yards. I giggle and Bunny pauses. "What?"

"Nothing." I bite my tongue, trying to be nice for once.

"Tell me what's so funny?" His lips twist into a smirk that's my undoing. I'd be terrible under interrogation. Send Bunny in and I'd be willing to give away state secrets within seconds.

"You believe your own hype don't you?" I tap my finger on the title of the movie.

"It's not hype."

"Of course it is. There's no way it's that big. I've seen it numerous times, and I don't believe you." I'm also praying it's not; the thought of it anywhere near me makes me want to cross my legs. This is a totally hypothetical scenario of course.

"It's been measured." He's starting to look offended.

"By who?"

"By me."

I burst out laughing at this. "Exactly my point, Bunny. Come on, let's go and play whatever game they've got planned."

I walk away, but he tugs me back by the belt loop on my jeans until I'm pressed back against his body. "You could always measure it?"

"Absolutely no way. I'm just going to believe it's a myth. Invented by you." I straighten my back, ignoring the part of me that wants to whip out a ruler and get on my knees, and walk away, turning to look at him over my shoulder.

A confident grin is spread across his face. "I'll take that as full acceptance of my whole twelve inches."

"Unbelievable." I mutter, as I go and find Alice.

* * *

I'm stopped in my tracks at the sight before me. "What is that?" I ask her, as she's spreading out a plastic mat on the floor, a large area cleared of furniture.

"What does it look like to you?" Alice sits back on her heels and gives me a look as if I'm a total imbecile.

"It looks like I'm going home. Bye." I spin on my heel and out into the kitchen to grab my purse. Instead I find Bunny, who has clearly given up on rescuing his porn collection and is pouring shots.

"Here, Fluff. Have a Sambuca." He slides one over to where I'm stood, and it sloshes all over the granite counter, leaving the glass empty. "Damn that always works in the movies."

"No thanks, Tom Cruise. I don't need one, I'm going home." I fake a big yawn, but he doesn't buy it, walking over and shoving a sticky shot in my hand.

"Nope ... you're not going anywhere. We're here to beat their asses. I need you on my team." He pleads, pouting out his bottom lip, which just makes me want to suck it. Instead I throw back the shot, half missing my mouth. Bunny laughs as it dribbles down my chin. "Stop laughing and give me another."

I hold out my glass, swiping my chin with my other hand. If I'm going to do this, I sure as hell am not doing it sober. Bunny pours me another shot, but half of it goes on my hand because he's too busy looking at my cleavage. I hadn't quite realised how 'on display' it was in my vest, and Bunny has a bird's eye view, which he's taking full advantage of, like a sailor on the lookout for icebergs. "Oy, eyes up here."

He shrugs his shoulders. "I can't help it, they're hypnotising me … like Siegfried and Roy." His gorgeous grin spreads across his face, jubilant at his quick wit, and I want to bask in it for a minute so I decide not to delve into the difference between illusionists and hypnotists.

I glance at the liquid left in the bottle of Sambuca. How much has he had? "Siegfried and Roy? Are you drunk?"

"Nope ... I'm not drinking. Designated driver, remember?" He taps a finger on his head and hands me another shot. Bunny leans his hip against the counter, placing the bottle down.

"You're gonna have to expand. How are they hypnotizing you? " I reach for the Sambuca, suddenly aware of how close we are stood. His eyes fix on my chest again and I feel my nipples harden under his gaze, becoming almost painful when he dips his face so he's level with me. His smells of pure sex with a hint of something sweet that reminds me of strawberry sherbet. It makes my mouth water. "They make me want to do things."

"Like what? I ask, despite the fact I'm launching myself onto a slope that was slippery enough before I sloshed Sambuca down it.

"Like this." His green eyes fill with mischief. He's so close I'm sure he can hear my heart slamming against my ribs.

I draw in a shaky breath that freezes halfway as he presses his lips to my collarbone. My mind is shouting a thousand reasons why I should move away, but it's drowned out by my body rejoicing as he swirls his tongue along the trail of sweet aniseed on my skin. He is so close to my mouth and suddenly nothing matters. Who cares if he's Bunny? Who cares if he's a notorious porn star? All I want in that moment is to feel his lips on mine, but as I'm about to turn to him, he kisses the corner of my lips and continues a path along my jaw until his warm breath is at my ear, bathing my body in a flurry of goose bumps.

"And this." He traps my ear lobe in his teeth and drags them gently down over my skin, until my knees feel like they're going to give in. "But most of all, I want to tame the tiger."

I open my mouth to give him a piece of my mind and inform him my lady garden is well manicured, but Bunny sucks the soft, sensitive skin behind my ear. I grip onto his cotton t-shirt as a deep throb flares between my legs and a throaty moan leaves my lips. He responds with a growl that sends every one of my nerve endings wild with desire.

"You know the tiger bites, right?" I manage to warn him. My mouth is taking instruction from my mind, but my body has thrown the manual away, thinking it knows better, and I inch closer to him.

"We'll see about that." Edward leans in for the kill, our lips a pussy cat's whisker away, when a shout from Jasper shocks us from our trance, reminding me why we're here, and why I should have escaped from the circus while I had the chance.

"It's Twister time."

* * *

**A/N Thanks to A-Jasper-For-Me and Grnidgirl for their beta and prereading skills. They rock.**

**Thank you for reading, reviewing and pimping - please form an orderly line with your tape measures, rulers and anything else you'd like to use to get to the bottom of Bunny's myth.  
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	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19 - Hairy Squatter and the Sorcerer's Bone**

**EPOV**

It's almost midnight and we're at the back of a long line of cars in the 'In 'N' Out' drive-thru. Fluff is half asleep, and dribbling a little, but every time I suggest we get her the hell home to bed, she seems to wake up, complaining she has the munchies, which is clearly all my fault.

It was also my fault she lost at strip-twister. It had nothing to do with the fact she'd already downed five shots of Sambuca before she even started, although I suspect that even if she hadn't drank anything, her inability to walk in a straight line when sober would have caused her to lose.

I'd had to bundle her out of my own house when she'd fallen over on the Twister mat yet again, and insisted that in the spirit of the game, she remove her sheer black bra and low-rise boy shorts. I can't remember the last time I'd actually forced a girl to dress against her will. It was that, or dry-hump her on the plastic mat in front of our closest friends. I might have done it, if Jasper hadn't mentioned he was planning to call his next movie 'The Dry Hump-back of Notre Dame'.

"No wonder you won," she complains again, attempting to punch me in the arm, but missing me entirely and hitting thin air, "You're used to holding strange positions for hours at a time when you're being all porny."

She's been calling me porny all night. I didn't pay a lot of attention during English class, but I'm pretty sure that particular adjective hasn't made its way into Webster's English Dictionary.

We move forward one car space. At our current rate of progress, we should hit the order window just in time for breakfast.

Fluff starts to sing. "Let's play Twister, let's play risk, la la la la." I squint across to see her leaning against the cool, damp passenger window. "What song does that come from anyway?" she asks.

"Man in the Moon by REM." I tell her. I'm a big fan; I used to be a shiny happy person.

She turns and squints at me, her lips pursed. "I've never had a man in the moon, you know."

I splutter loudly, then shake my head. Is Fluff really talking about anal sex?

"Oooooookayy, then," I reply.

She's a talkative drunk. She's also a little 'handsy', as I find out when she scoots across the front seat of the car until she is only a leg away from sitting on my lap. She nuzzles her face into my neck, and I feel her nose scrunching against the light stubble that has started to grow since I shaved this morning.

"We should play twenty questions while we wait. Charlie and I always used to play that game in a traffic jam when I was a kid." Her voice is muffled as she speaks into my neck. I shudder a little at the feel of her breath against my skin.

"Alright, you go first." I'm always a gentleman. And for the life of me I can't think what to ask her that doesn't end with her screaming my name. Multiple times.

Bella lifts her head and looks up at me, her eyes slightly unfocused. She's only a couple of inches away, and just a tiny scoot forward would be enough for our lips to touch.

I grab the steering wheel tightly. I'm not going to take advantage. I'm not.

"No, you go first," she replies.

I put my arm around her shoulders as she snuggles even closer to me. "What's your favorite color?"

She giggles. "Is that the best you can do? This is your chance to ask me whatever you want, and you ask me about colors?"

"I don't know what else to ask," I admit.

"Fine, I'll go. How old were you when you lost your virginity?"

"Twenty five," I reply. She hits me again, and this time on target. Jesus, that hurts.

"Be honest, I want to know."

I drag the hand that's not curled around Bella's shoulder through my hair. We really shouldn't be having this conversation. For a start, if we are talking about sex, it will make me want to have sex. With her.

Secondly, if she asks me too many questions about my previous experiences, she definitely won't want to have sex. With me.

"I was fifteen," I admit. "Her name was Jessica Stanley. We were in drama class together."

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it? Now it's your turn." She enunciates each word like I'm hard of hearing. When she stops talking, her lips are soft against my neck, and I hold my breath as she opens them and sucks at my skin.

Oh, my God ... I can't even ...

Think, dammit. "Erm ... Have you ever been in love?"

She glances up again and I look her straight in the eye. Slowly she moves her head from side to side. "Not yet," she whispers.

I am so fucked.

She pulls away, and the momentary loss of body heat makes me want to protest. The words die in my mouth as she scrambles to her knees and throws one of her legs across mine, moving her cute little ass until she's straddling me, her torso jammed between my body and the steering wheel.

Holy shit. She wiggles in an attempt to get comfortable, and my cock can feel every inch of her jean-clad cheeks as she gyrates against me.

"I've got a question," she says. "Why do you have to be a porn star?"

As I stare into her eyes, I notice they're a little glassy. I reach out to cup her cheek.

"I don't know." My voice is barely a whisper.

"For the first time in forever, I meet a gorgeous, sexy guy with a body to die for, who makes me giggle and treats me like a princess." She laughs bitterly. "But it turns out Prince Charming is sticking his royal sceptre inside every woman in the palace. They _all_ get to go to the ball."

"You shouldn't want me," I agree, my voice thick and low. "I know a beautiful girl like you could never want a monster like me."

A single tear rolls down her face. It breaks my heart.

"You're not a monster, Edward." Her eyes automatically glance down at my crotch. "Well, maybe a small part of you is."

"Less of the small," I growl, and she gives me a watery smile.

I lift my hand and wipe her wet cheek. She leans into my palm and I stroke her skin with my thumb, rubbing it in gentle circles. She closes her eyes and I watch as her lips tremble, making me want to lean in and brush them with my own.

There's a gap in front of us in the drive-thru, and I should move Bella back to her seat and pull forward, but we both seem to need this closeness. I gently release the brake and let the car edge ahead, one hand on the steering wheel, the other caressing Bella Swan's face. We are one car away from the order window, and the disappointment floods me when I realize she will have to move away from me soon. I could quite happily spend the rest of my life with her sitting in my lap.

I clear my throat. "It's my turn."

"Your turn for what?" She asks, confused.

"To ask a question," I tell her.

Her expression morphs into concern, her eyebrows drawing together, but she nods, giving her assent. My heart hammers against my chest. She's so fucking beautiful.

Putting the car in park, I circle my arms around her waist, pulling her toward me until our chests are touching. A sigh escapes from Bella's lips, dancing on my skin, and I'm hanging onto my sanity by a fragile thread.

"Can I kiss you?" I ask. I don't know what I'll do if she says no. Go insane perhaps, or explode into a thousand tiny shards. Bella remains silent, her eyes locked to mine, and for a long, drawn out moment, the anticipation slays us both.

"Don't move," she says, reaching out her hands to cup my stubbled cheeks. She moves toward me until our lips touch, our breath mingling as we start to lose control.

She brushes her mouth gently against mine and I grip her waist tightly, trying to stop myself from ravishing her the way I want to. Her tongue drags a hot, needy line along my bottom lip, and I open my mouth, inviting her in, scraping my teeth against her before sucking at her tongue.

She tastes of Sambuca, and gum, and something delicious I can't quite place. I try to shift her from my cock, not least because it's almost agonizing in its tumescence. She clamps my thighs between her own as if to anchor herself in.

"Edward," she moans against my mouth, and I caress her tongue with my mine; capturing it, teasing it, tasting it. Her hands push into my hair and she curls her fingers, tugging at me, trying to pull me closer still. My own fingers ache with the need to slide up her waist, glance along her skin until I can cup her breasts. I want to feather my thumbs across her nipples until they're so hard it hurts.

Bella pulls my bottom lip between her teeth and grinds down on my lap, and I close my eyes in an effort not to grab her roughly and make her mine. It's too much and not enough, and every single nerve ending in my body is about to explode.

"Ow! What the fuck? Is this car a manual?" Bella pulls back and stares down at our legs. I miss her mouth already.

It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts before I reply, "No, it's automatic."

"But I'm sitting on the gear shift." She wiggles about again. Not helping.

I swallow hard, and stare back at her beautiful, kiss-swollen lips. They're turned down into a frown as she tries to work out the source of her discomfort.

Gently curling my hands around her hips, I lift her off my now-painful cock.

"That's not a gear stick."

* * *

**A/N Thanks to A-Jasper-For-Me and Grnidgirl for all their help.**

**Thank you for reading and for your reviews. they make our night.  
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**We'd also like to thank the fabulous girls at Teh Lemonade Stand for featuring this fic in their nursery. It feels kinda wrong to have Bunny there, but we'll take it!**

**Want to talk? Come chat with us on Facebook or twitter - our links are on the profile page. See you next time, Sparrow & Choc xx**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20 - The Lone Ranger Rides Silver Sally – Again**

**BPOV**

I'm shaken awake by Bunny who is standing over me with a glass of water. "Come on, you need to get up. We have to go and get the cars from your dad."

Groaning, I roll over and pull the covers over my head. My brain feels like someone's used it as a football. "Go away, Bunny."

"No you don't." He rips the covers off me, and I curse him five ways to hell, trying to cover myself up, relief flooding my body when I realize I'm still fully clothed.

"I'm dressed." I state the obvious.

"I didn't think you'd want me to undress you while you were passed out," he responds, mumbling something under his breath, but I don't have the energy to ask what.

He shoves the glass and a couple of painkillers in my hand, producing a banana from the back pocket of his jeans with a flourish "Here, this will help, but hurry up because my mom's on her way, and I am_ not_ picking her up in Jasper's pussy wagon."

He leaves me to try and make myself presentable, shouting a countdown through my door in increments of two minutes. My body is on slow-mo. Everything is taking me twice as long, and my mind seems to have stalled. Flickers of memories from the previous night flash and putter out the minute I try to focus on them. I can't differentiate between my dreams and reality. Bending over in front of Bunny in only my bra and jeans, hands on blue and green, feet on red and blue seems to be an awful reality. Where unfortunately, the most amazing kiss of my life can only be a dream because for starters, I've never even been to In'N'Out.

We take a cab to the garage, and I cling onto the banana, not sure if my stomach can handle it.

"Fluff, just eat it. It's the best hangover cure."

I heed his advice, willing to try anything to stop me feeling as shitty as I do, so I peel it and take a tentative bite. It's not so bad and my mind veers away from the risk of vomiting in the cab to how I'm going to address the whole cosy family dinner with Bunny debacle, not to mention our new living arrangements.

"Are you serious?" Bunny's tone snaps me out of my thoughts

I pause with the fruit inches from my mouth, wondering what his problem is. "What?"

"Stop eating it like that."

"Like what?"

"Like that."

"Are you insane? How else am I supposed to eat it?"

"I don't know, just not like that. I've got to face your dad in a minute." It could be the light through the cab window, but I could have sworn he paled when he mentioned Charlie.

"How do you eat a banana?"

"In the normal way."

"That's what I'm doing!"

"No, Fluff, you're not." He pinches his nose with his fingers and I seriously consider stuffing the banana in his ear hole.

"I didn't even want the banana. You made me, and if you don't like it, _don't_ watch me eating it."

He shuts up, but I'm totally aware of how I'm supposed to be eating said banana, so I give up.

* * *

We both stand in the sunshine bathed car lot like two soldiers about to head into battle. Two soldiers who have no idea what they're about to come face to face with nor have any kind of strategy. Admittedly, we both have slightly different reasons we're not dancing a jig over the thought of seeing my dad, but for once I feel like we're on the same side.

"We should have thought this through." Bunny rubs his hands over the day's worth of golden brown scruff he's grown on his jaw. I want to lift my hand and touch it, but instead I instinctively touch my lips which feel chapped. I've left my cherry balm at home, so I lick them instead, drawing Bunny's eyes and a wry smile. I'm about to ask him what he's grinning at when The Lone Ranger strides across the lot in his white Stetson and black suit.

"Bells. Edward." Charlie's voice has dropped three tones. Whether this is in an effort to confuse us who he is, or perhaps to seem intimidating, I'm not sure, but it still doesn't help me forget the images that have been brewing in my mind since hot-tub-gate. He tips his hat in greeting, and I half expect him to pull out a shiny gun, spin it around his finger and whistle Silver. I don't hear any hooves galloping our way and Bunny seems to have fallen for Dad's attempts to appear threatening and is silent, so I bite the bullet.

"Dad, are the cars ready?"

He nods and tosses us two sets of keys, throwing Bunny's slightly to the left so he has to move to catch them. He reacts in a flash, his body stretching to reveal a sliver of skin above his jeans and the flexing muscles of his abdomen as he easily grabs them. A vision of my hands sliding over his hard body flares in my mind, starting up a flutter in my stomach, but now is not the time to day dream about Bunny, so I turn my attention back to Dad.

Silence descends upon us again, and I vividly imagine dusty tumbleweeds blowing across the tarmac accompanied with the gunslingers' theme tune. Deciding this stand-off at the OK Corral is going a little too far, I lay down the law.

"Dad, Bunny's moved in with me."

He splutters, losing his composure for a minute, his face turning the color of his MCG, but I hold my hand up before he can explode.

"It's temporary. So don't get your 'tache in a tangle." I stick my hands on my hips for added mettle. "Bunny's mom is coming to visit, and she doesn't know his … erm …"

"How I earn an honest living." Bunny interjects, clamping his lips shut when I glare at him. Dad mumbles something under his breath and puffs up his chest giving me the 'dad look', opening his mouth to give me a lecture about my virtue. Oh Christ, I'm gonna have to go there.

I arch my brow at him. "Two words, Dad. Hot. Tub."

That does the trick.

* * *

Later that afternoon, after tidying the flat at the speed of a whirling dervish, there's a knock at the door. I stuff the last few bits of crap into a cupboard, and smooth down my hair. I'm not really sure what I'm doing, but it suspiciously feels like I'm trying to impress Bunny's mom.

I open the door to see the most beautiful woman with caramel hair, cut into a sleek bob, and green eyes that are a matching pair to her son's, but she is also dressed in the most hideous turquoise velour tracksuit I have ever seen.

"You must be, Bella." She breezes past me, and yes, it does say 'Juicy' on her ass. Dropping her purse onto the breakfast bar, she turns around and gives me a crushing hug. She smells like pear drops and cookies. "I'm Esme. It's lovely to finally meet you. Edward has told me so much already. He said you were beautiful, and he's right." She pinches my cheek and floats off into the apartment. I can't help but blush at her words. I tamper down the fist pump though.

She flits around the room like a colorful butterfly with a big smile on her face, bending down to look at our photographs on the refrigerator, including a hastily pinned one of Bunny looking devastatingly handsome that I _will_ be keeping as a memento of our time together. "Edward is on his way up with Emmett and my bag."

"Emmett?" I ask, Bunny never mentioned anyone else was staying. I start to panic.

"Yes, he's one of my beautiful boys." She clasps her hands together against her chest. "Edward gets very jealous of him though, so we have to make sure he knows he's loved too." She winks and my mind flits through the various explanations. Bunny hadn't mentioned a brother, was he really that jealous?

The door swings open and he appears alone with a hold-all slung over his shoulder which he unceremoniously dumps on the floor.

"Where's Emmett? Is he on his way up?" I ask, peeking out into the empty corridor.

"Oh not already, Fluff. Jesus Christ. You've not even met him yet." Bunny folds his arms across his chest with the cutest pout, and I have the sudden urge to kiss him and the sudden realization that I know what he tastes like. How the hell do I know that? I widen my eyes at him and flashes from last night slam into my mind. Fucking hell. I think I really did kiss him. But the fact he hasn't said a word makes me worry I'm hallucinating.

Esme and Bunny are totally oblivious to my revelation.

"Hush, Edward. You'll hurt his feelings. You know how sensitive he is." She's rummaging around in the bag, which is the size of the Texas, with her 'Juicy' bottom waving in the air. Bunny looks pained.

The scrabbling of nails on the floorboards draws my attention to a ball of fur that shoots out of the living room with Esme hot on its heels.

"What the hell was that?" I point incredulously in the direction the hairball went.

"That was Emmett. The little shit."

"Emmett is a … what was that?"

Bunny sighs and twists his mouth as if he's sucked on a lemon. "He's an overly-pampered prima donna of a pug."

Esme returns with the little dog in her arms. I'm not a dog person, but I have to admit, he's kind of cute with those big brown eyes and scrunchy face. "Bella, I'm so sorry. Emmett's had a little accident in one of the bedrooms. Haven't you my little man? Yes, you little monkey. You were excited weren't you?" Her voice is so high-pitched at the end, I'm surprised the windows don't shatter.

"Oh. It's okay. Don't worry." She's so lovely I don't even care that I'm going to have to clean up his mess.

"I told you. He's the devil." Bunny murmurs while we go to assess the damage. A string of whispered curses fly out of his mouth when he sees Emmet's little present.

"The little fucking furball. I told you. He could have gone in any room and done that, but he's knows this is mine. I swear he hates me."

I shove Bunny out of the way so I can see what he's so upset about and nearly fall over laughing.

"Maybe he's just not a fan of baby, baby, baby, oh."

Bunny storms past me, leaving me to dissolve in hysterics on the floor.

Holy fucking hell. Emmett peed on Justin Bieber's head.

I'm in love with this dog already.

* * *

**A/N - ****Our other story Shifting Gears (think jealous Edward in Lycra) has been nominated for Fic of The Week. If you can spare the time, we love if you can vote for us on www dot tehlemonadestand dot net.**

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**Love, Sparrow & Choc x**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21 - Riding Miss Daisy**

**EPOV**

This isn't turning out to be my finest hour. Fluff seems to have completely forgotten her starring role in the hottest kiss of my life, and my mom has decided I should spend the day bonding with my `brother` while she catches up with an old friend in Santa Barbara. This turn of events would normally be a slight irritation, but for the fact that I have to go into the studio to record a scene.

And the fact I want to spend the afternoon inside Bella Swan.

Cujo is sitting in the corner of Fluff's living room, baring his fangs and staring at me like I'm a month old piece of shit turning white in the sun. A low level growl vibrates from his chest, and I'm wondering just what the hell I'm going to do with him while the cameras are rolling.

Fluff drags herself out of bed just before midday, making up a tall story about her sculpture class being cancelled because they ran out of clay. I try not to look at her too closely, aware that every time I do, my cock has a flashback to the other night, when she climbed all over me in Jasper's pussy wagon.

As soon as Fluff walks into the room, Emmett morphs into Lassie, almost purring with delight and scampering over to her, his tongue hanging out and his tail wagging like he isn't a hound from hell.

"How's my sweetest little baby," she coos, picking him up and rubbing his fur. The way she blows him kisses makes me want to cut a dog, and I fist my hands in an attempt not to fling him out the window of her third floor apartment.

"I ... ah ... need your help today." My last few words tumble out fast. She looks up at me, forehead creased, and I swear Emmett turns around and gives me the evil stare.

"What's up?"

My cock, that's what.

How the hell can I make her remember? I'm at a loss, desperate for her to look at me the way she did when she was grinding against my dick, but half afraid she'll think I took advantage of her inebriated state.

"I have to take Emmett to the studio with me. And you owe me a favor."

"I owe you a favor?" Her face is blank. I lift my hands up and curl my fingers, mimicking the way she moulded the clay. Her lips drop open and she shakes her head rapidly. "No way, Bunny. I know you did the nude modelling, but I'm not going to polish your python."

If I didn't find her response amusing I'd be offended. For a start, my hands are way too closed up to be mimicking a hand job, and anyway, she _does_ owe me.

"Not that." I glance at my watch and realize I have to be there in thirty minutes. I'm going to have to put on my best sweet talking voice. "I need you to come to the studio and dog-sit Emmett."

At the sound of his name, Emmett looks at me and bares his teeth, lips pulled back until all I can see is the pink-white expanse of his gums. He growls again, louder than last time, and I start to worry he's going to come in and kill me while I'm sleeping tonight.

I fucking hate dogs.

"You want me to come to the studio?" she asks, her face falling. "Im not sure I can do that."

I bite my lower lip in frustration. "You promised." I remind her.

Bella reaches down to put Emmett back on the floor. He stays by her legs, nuzzling against them, his white fur rubbing on her tanned calves. She reaches down and ruffles his head and I feel my stomach contract.

I'm jealous of a goddamned pug.

"Why can't I look after him here?" Emmett looks almost gleeful at this. I swear he can understand every word we are saying.

"Because mom could come back at any time, and if she finds out I've left him here with you, I'll never hear the end of it. We can take pictures of him in the studio or something?" I grab my sunglasses and look for my keys. I can't believe I've got to take the four-legged Satan in my Chevelle with me. If he shits in it, he dies.

"Photos, that sounds great," Fluff deadpans. "Maybe I can pose him on your naked ass while I watch you pump another woman?"

I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. We stare at each other, her mouth screwed up in anger, mine wide with surprise. For some reason her flash of envy gives me hope and more than anything I want to cling on to it. She has me whipped—heart, body and soul, and all I want to do is drag her to bed and spend the day wrapped up inside her.

"We're filming external shots today. No sex," I tell her, and now I want to take a picture of the relieved expression that runs across her face.

Christ, I want her.

"Externals?" she clarifies, pulling on her chucks, and fishing my car keys from behind the sofa. I'd bet good money Cujo put them there.

"You know, Batman and Throbbin?" I remind her. Her lips curl up and she bites down on them as if to muffle a laugh. "We need to film a couple of climbing scenes and stuff."

"That sounds very ... ahm ... technical." She can't hold it any longer. The giggles spill out of her lips, and Emmett starts to bark, his eyes dancing with what looks like amusement. I stifle the urge to strangle him then stuff his body down her throat.

"It is," I huff, pulling open the front door and stalking out of the apartment. She scoops up Emmett and catches me, her hand reaching out to squeeze mine in a gesture of reconciliation.

"Let's go, Batman."

. . .

When we get to the studio, the sun is burning high in the sky, the perfect lighting for our next scene. I grab the Batman suit from the trunk of the car, and we walk into the studio together, heading for the make-up room where I'll change and get ready for the scene.

Alice is already there, brushes at the ready, and when she sees Fluff, a huge grin crosses her face and she squeals, throwing herself into Fluff's arms. They do that strange jump-dance thing girls do when they're happy to see each other, both talking so fast I can't understand what on earth they are saying.

"Blah blah blah paparazzi" Alice squeals, making Fluff's face fall and her eyes slide sideways as if she is trying to look at me while trying not to look like she's trying to look at me. It's a move that's as complex as the description.

"Blah blah blah In and Out?" Fluff replies, and she's shaking her head in confusion, her eyes staring straight at Alice's cell phone. Emmett is clearly growing as bored of this conversation as I am, and starts to run around the room madly, barking at an invisible person at the door.

"Shut the hell up, Emmett!" Fluff shouts, and his little doggy face falls. I feel my feet tapping the ground in a little victory dance.

Emmett starts scratching at the door, whimpering, his claws scraping at the dark green paint. Fluff is whispering in the corner with Alice, who appears to be showing her something on her iPhone, so I walk over and push down the handle, wondering if Emmett needs to go outside to do his doggy business.

I almost jump when I pull the door open. Standing on the other side, naked as the day she ... came out of the cosmetic surgeon's office ... is Rosalie Hale, also known as Tits McGee. Three things happen at once, making me a little unsteady on my feet, and unsure of how things get out of hand so quickly.

Bella gasps, pointing at Rosalie, and screaming something about getting her tits out of my face.

Rosalie yells at me, complaining that I'm late as usual and she has a hair appointment at four.

Emmett launches himself at Tits McGee like a furry cannonball, his little body flying through the air. He clamps his entire torso around her leg, moving himself up and down in a pretty great imitation of a dry-hump. Rosalie screams and kicks, trying to unlatch him from her ankle. Emmett yelps but carries on gyrating, his eyes shining like a man who has gone without for a long, long time.

Alice runs over, trying not to look at Rosalie's crotch as she wraps her hand around Emmett, pulling him away from Rosalie's naked leg. He howls loudly, his paws scrambling in thin air as he tries to get back to her, Alice having to use all her strength to restrain him from leaping out of her grasp.

I take one look at the mayhem and feel the hysteria bubble up through my chest until I bark out a laugh, my eyes watering at Rosalie's horrified expression.

"Well, that was interesting." I observe, folding my arms in front of me. "It looks like you just met your biggest fan."

Rosalie starts shouting about lawsuits and dog pounds-which sounds like a movie she could definitely make-but I'm distracted by a gentle hand wrapping around my larger, rougher version. I turn to see Fluff staring up at me, a quizzical expression on her face and her eyes shining under the harsh light of the makeup room. She snakes out a tongue to moisten her lips and I want to eat her face off, lift her body against mine until we are both panting with anticipation.

"Edward?" Her voice is tremulous, and it makes me realize the thing I've been both dreading and hoping for since In N Out has finally occurred.

Fluff has remembered our fuck-hot kiss.

* * *

**A/N - TAOGF was featured in Rob Attack's Fanfiction Fridays this week. Many thanks to AllyVera and all the ladies who run the site. If you want lots of great Fic recs, and even more RobPorn, you can find them at: robattack dot wordpress dot com.  
**

**A Jasper For Me and PatesGreeneyes bash our words into shape, and we are really grateful for their help.**

**And as for you guys - your reviews continue to rock our world. They make our day more than a naked bunny with a dog on his butt. Thank you **

**Sparrow and Choc xx**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22 - Toy Story 2 - When Woody Met Buzz LightSpear**

**BPOV**

* * *

I feel so hot. So, so hot.

My cheeks are flushed red. Whether it's from the inappropriate pictures of us dry humping in the drive through, the way Bunny's looking at me, or the totally starkers Barbie doll Emmett was trying to mate, I don't know. I need someone to douse me with ice water before I spontaneously combust.

I ignore Emmett's yelping and Alice's prattling and grab his hand. Bunny's eyes widen in surprise. "We need to talk."

"Umm … yeah." He rubs the back of his neck as if he can't believe what's unfolding in front of his eyes and lets me drag him out.

I start to think how normal it is, holding Bunny's hand. His is large and strong and wraps around mine perfectly. Then the naked porn star starts yelling that we're irresponsible dog owners, and I'm reminded we're so far from normal I might as well be Alice in Wonderland dragging the March Hare down the rabbit hole.

I almost break into a run to get away from Emmett's new toy. She's so irate, throwing her hands around, if she's not careful with those nails she might pop her inflatable airbags. Finding an empty corridor, I drag him down to the end, open an unlocked door and push him in, following behind into the dark room. The heavy door slams behind us as I search for a light switch on the wall.

"Where's the light?" I feel along the cool wall with my palm, immediately finding the corner, I swap to the other side and find that corner too.

"There isn't a light," Bunny answers, though its pitch black, I can sense he's stood right behind me.

"Try and find one there must be." I feel disorientated and my head begins to spin with the remnants of my hangover and panic about the photos. Alice helpfully told me they'd gone viral, which I'm hoping was an exaggeration, but it still makes me want to emigrate to Mars.

I start waving my hand around in an attempt to find a string switch but whack my arm on some shelves. I hear things topple over and fall on the floor. "Shit what was that?" I try to bend down, but Bunny is right in the line of fire and I end up headbutting him in the chest. "Why are you standing so close to me?"

"I can't move any further away, Fluff," he answers, and I feel his breath tickle the top of my head, sending goosebumps across my body and making me feel light headed. "We're in a closet."

"A closet?" I repeat as it starts to make sense why I feel so claustrophobic and why I'd only need to take a deep breath to feel Bunny's chest press against mine.

"Yes. Can we get out of here now? I'm not a big fan of small spaces," he admits, placing his hands on my arms and spinning me around, moving us toward to the door. I twist the handle. "It won't open."

"Let me." He leans over and turns it, pushing against the door. "Fuck. It's locked. Why did you lock us in?"

"Locked?" I screech, yanking on it as hard as I can, panic rising. "I didn't lock it." I hammer on the door and start yelling.

He clamps his hand over my mouth. "That's a bit dramatic don't you think?"

I pry it off and spin round to face him. "What are we going to do?"

He is so close I can feel the warmth from his body, it makes my own tingle in response. "They'll be here in a minute don't panic."

"I'm not panicking. Well okay, maybe a little. I don't like the dark." I close my eyes which seems to help with the panic, but makes my head spin. Getting the distinct sensation I'm falling over, I grab a shelf to ground myself. Bunny's hand shoots out and holds my waist, his touch hot through the thin material of my top.

"Are you okay?" he asks, and I let go of the shelf and hold his arm, feeling his soft hair I know is the perfect shade of golden brown, lightened by the sun.

"Yes." The air in the room thickens with the electricity that is always between us, darkness and close proximity only intensifying it. He has to feel it too. The way his breath fans across my bare shoulders tells me he's tipped his head down, and the tiny hairs on my skin rise, almost tickling, telling me to press my cheek against his rougher, stubbled jaw.

"Bunny," I barely whisper.

"Yes."

I wonder if he can hear how loud my heart is beating. It's thunderous in my own ears. My nerves open the babbling floodgates. "The pictures Alice showed me at the In'N'Out. Are they real? I mean I think there are, but I can't remember it all. I was just wondering if you could—"

"They're real."

"Oh my god, Bunny." I slap my hand to my forehead. The resulting crack seems louder in the enclosed space and doesn't help the thumping headache developing.

"Why are you hitting yourself in the face?"

"I'm so annoyed with myself. I can't believe … and now it's all over the paper and ... oh Christ my dad might see. Oh my God, oh my God." Bunny remains silent until I finish my little freak out.

When the heavy charged silence returns, he speaks, but his tone is strained. "I'm sorry, Fluff. I took advantage I should never have done it."

I can't see a thing, but if I reached up and touched his face I know I would feel a crease between his eyebrows. I want to stand on my tiptoes and kiss his frown away. "What are you talking about?"

"I shouldn't have kissed you. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry. I'm the ones who's sorry." I instinctively place my hand on his chest, wanting to take away whatever it is that made him sound so sad.

"You're sorry?"

"Yes. I'm so sorry." I curl my fingers into the soft material of his t-shirt.

"So we're both sorry."

"Yes. Do you think this is the most amount of times the word sorry has been said in a closet of …" I have no idea what were in.

I feel Bunny move, knocking more objects on the floor, but this time a green glow fills the room, eerily lighting up our faces. I look up at him then we both look back down at the floor.

"Is that what I think it is?" I touch it with my toe and a hum fills the room.

"Umm … I'd say so yes, but let's look on the bright side. At least we've got some light now, and I can see your beautiful face."

"I look like the Hulk."

"Not really." He slides his hands along my biceps, squeezing gently. "You're too puny."

The hum stops and the light dulls, plunging us back into darkness. Bunny's hand keeps moving until it's cupping the nape of my neck, his thumb brushing the edge of my throat.

"I don't regret kissing you," he says.

I inch closer to him and tilt my head up, the electricity in the minuscule space between us is crackling and I wouldn't be surprised to see blue flashes sparking. "I don't either."

"So why are you sorry?"

I can feel his heart thumping under my palm, and I'm so glad it's not just me that loses total control when we're together. "I'm sorry I can't remember what was probably the most amazing kiss of my whole goddamn life."

Bunny's breath catches, his fingers curl into my hair, and I feel the softness of his lips, brushing against mine. "Doesn't mean we can't try to better it."

I whimper and tilt my head trying to find his lips in the dark. "I think we should. I mean I don't want to give away the accolade too early on. What if I award you the best kiss of my life and then you surpass it with a—

He crushes his lips to mine with a moan. All coherent thoughts evaporate into his lips as he tangles his tongue with mine in a desperation that makes my knees wobble. I tunnel my fingers into his hair as he tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth, running a red-hot trail across them with his tongue. Wandering hands slide under the back of my vest until they're resting against bare skin, pressing me flush against his body. I'm unashamedly panting as he slows, resting his forehead to mine while we both catch our breath. He drops a lingering kiss on my lips, and I can feel his smile pressing against my own. "We should do this more often." His voice is gravelly as his fingers trail up and down my spine, the sensation driving me crazy for him.

I stand on my tiptoes to taste him again when the door flies open blinding us with bright light.

"Oops … sorry … don't mind me I just need to get the Orgasmatron 3000 and the I-Rub-My-Duckie." I squint at the petite brunette crew member who squeezes past us and reaches up to a shelf that's full of row after row of sex toys. She picks the gigantic green vibrator up off the floor and waves it at us. "You weren't using the Incredible Bulk were you? I might see if Rosalie wants this too."

I turn to look at Bunny with my mouth wide with shock. He's cringing as much as me when the woman leaves us with a wink. "We were in the sex toy closet?"

"Umm … it would appear that way." He shrugs his shoulders sheepishly.

I rub my hands on my face in disbelief. I had fallen down the rabbit hole into the Mad Hatters Sex-Toy Party. "I … I don't really …"

"Its okay, Fluff. We'd better go and find Emmett."

"Good idea. I … think I want to go home too. Is that okay? I …" A thousand alarm bells are ringing in my head. I'm falling for Bunny, but I can't fall for The Battery. I just can't.

"Yeah, that's fine. I understand."

I nod and follow him back down the corridor, wishing I was still holding his hand.

"Bunny," I say before we reach his dressing room.

He spins round and his face is lit up with what looks like hope. "Yeah?"

"You feel this thing between us." I gestured back and forth and he nods.

"But this thing." I wave my arms in a circle around me. "I'm not sure I can feel you and this and me and this and you and…" I bite my lip, knowing I'm talking in ridiculous riddles, but I don't know if I have the right to say any more. I'm not his girlfriend. I'm his pretend room-mate and part-time dog sitter. The thought sobers me, and I realize I want more. I want him, but I want him to myself and part of me is scared what will happen if I make him choose.

"I know, Fluff. Believe me, I know." He leans down, pressing a kiss to my cheek, and whispers in my ear. "But I've never wanted anything more than I want you."

* * *

**A/N ****Thank You so much for reading, we love each and every one of your reviews. One hour with Bunny in the sex toy closet for all of you.**

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	23. Chapter 23

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the lovely A-Jasper-For-Me. We hope you have a fabulous day xx**

* * *

**Chapter 23 - Sex-Men: First Class**

**EPOV**

We eventually find Emmett cowering in the corner of Rosalie Hale's dressing room, his face a picture of doggy fear as she shouts at him, telling him it's not acceptable for him to mark his territory all over her newly-pedicured toes.

Bella rolls her eyes, scoops him up, and in her desperation to get out of the studio, she takes no shit from Emmett, snapping at him every time he whines and wriggles his over-generous heiney. When we get to my Chevelle, she pulls open the back door and goes to throw him on the leather upholstery.

"Nuh-uh," I shake my head, walking around to the trunk. "I'm not risking him pissing in my Chevy."

"He's just been," Fluff replies dryly, her face screwing up as Emmett pushes out his huge floppy tongue and slobbers all over her cheeks.

"It's not a chance I'm willing to take," I reply, stalking around to open up the trunk.

"You can't put him in there," she protests, as Emmett emits a rather human-like squeal. "He'll overheat or dehydrate or something."

I pull out a lidless cardboard box, placing it on the backseat. "I'm way too scared of PETA to give him anything but the best," I huff, snatching the evil ball of fur from her grasp and shoving him in the box. He starts to whimper, his huge brown eyes fixed on Bella, and I swear he actually bats his lashes her way.

I hate that dog. If I wasn't fearful of her answer, I'd ask my mom to choose between him and me.

I walk around and open Bella's door, impressing myself with my own chivalry. My fingers linger on her neck for a moment longer than necessary, and I'm fascinated by the way her chest hitches.

We are both quiet on the way home. I suspect Bella is thinking about this 'thing' that's growing between us, and I'm concentrating on not getting a hard-on, which is easier said than done when I swear I can smell her excitement.

"So," I say, trying to make conversation. "It's the big dinner party tonight. What time is your dad coming over?"

Bella sniggers. "He's coming over at eight. I told him if he mentions your porn career, we'll all be eating meatballs."

I say nothing, and I'm definitely not imagining her eating my meatballs.

"I should be home on time, I just need to pick something up on the way." This has to be the most surreally mundane conversation I've ever had. It's like I'm an office worker and she's my other half. What's worse, I really like it.

Bella splutters. "Like a prostitute?" Okay, so the mundane lasted all of five seconds. It was good while it lasted.

"No," I protest. "I was thinking more of a bottle of wine or some bread. I'm not a sexual psychopath, Bella."

Her face falls the tiniest bit, and I reach out to rub my thumb along her lip. Before I can push it any further, we're pulling into the parking lot of her apartment building. She waits for me to open her door-which I like very much-and when she gets out, I pull her into my arms. She nuzzles her face into my neck, her soft lips brushing against my skin.

"Don't go back," she whispers, and my heart drops. This is tearing me up inside. I put my hand on her chin and tip her head up until I'm looking into her deep brown eyes. I drown for a moment, wanting nothing more than to bury myself inside of her,

"I'm just filming an exterior." My voice is deep and rough. I lean down to brush my lips against hers, and the sensation sends a pint of blood to my dick. "I promise nothing will happen."

"I hate what you do." Her chin drops and she rests her forehead on my chest. I reach up and stroke her soft, glossy hair, my eyes closed as I try to figure out a way forward for us all.

"I know." It isn't enough, not anymore. "Let's get today out of the way and then we'll talk, okay? Just you, me and absolutely no alcohol."

She looks up at me through tearful eyes. "Okay." Her voice is soft enough to sleep in. "But promise me you're not going near that skank with any part of your body."

I'm a porn actor, it's my job to go near skanks, but I find myself agreeing to her not-unreasonable demand. I kiss her one last time before getting back in the car and revving up the engine. It's only when I hear a desperate wail and hear loud scrabbling that I realize I've forgotten all about Emmett.

. . .

I spend the afternoon in the studio parking lot, where Jasper has laid out two long, thick ropes; one intended for me, and the other for Rosalie Hale, or 'Cat Woman'. There's a crewman frantically painting out the white lines of the parking spaces and sticking fake windows to the tarmac, and I'm trying not to piss myself laughing at the extent of the efforts we're going to, just to make a goddamned sex film.

I'm vaguely aware of Rosalie's constant bitching. It's like the annoying buzz of a fly you want to splat the shit out of. She hates her costume and the way it pulls at her crack, she's certain the hood part is ruining her extensions, and best of all, every time she tries to act like she's climbing up the side of a building, she ends up face-planting the concrete. I can't help but grin madly at her flailing body.

Eventually, Jasper calls for a break.

"Can you show her how to do it?" He pleads with me. He's wearing a bright yellow t-shirt with the slogan 'Sex Instructor - First Lesson Comes Free' - splashed across the center, and he's covered his hair up with a psychedelic green bandana.

I lean closer, my brows dipping in concentration. "Are you wearing guy-liner, dude?" I ask.

"No." His cheeks flush red and he wipes at his eyes with his right hand. The tell-tale sign of black kohl comes off on his finger. He looks suitably embarrassed.

"Alice?" I ask him, knowing that she's not only started picking out his clothes for him, but seems to use him as her own personal Girl's World. He nods miserably and I slap him on the back, knowing that sooner or later we all end up whipped.

Rosalie eventually gets the hang of pretending to climb up the side of a building, working out that if she bends her knees and sticks her butt out, she's less likely to end up with a mouthful of tarmac. After that, the filming passes surprisingly fast, and Jasper's face is a picture of glee as he realizes we're way ahead of schedule. It makes me wish Fluff had hung around, we could have taken Digby Junior to the park, and hopefully lost him while we made out on a bench.

"We can record an interior scene while we still have the studio booked," Jasper suggests, as the props guy picks up the windows and the ropes. The huge green screen that has been erected next to the lot is pulled down, and we gather up our stuff to head into the studio.

"Er, what exactly do you plan to film?" I ask. We walk over to the make-up room. Alice runs in, her hair dyed an inky black, and styled like she's a carbon copy of Betty Boop. She's like a whirling dervish with a make-up box, and I have to close my eyes as she plasters my face, muttering about the fact I didn't shave this morning and how I'm bound to get ingrown hairs.

"We're going to do the third sex scene. You, Tits McGee and Golden Balls." Jasper is staring at the clipboard in his hands, running his fingers down his schedule. Golden Balls -or Eric Yorkie as his mother knows him-is Robin to my Batman.

"I'm not sure if I'm feeling that scene." I run a hand nervously through my hair, causing Alice to squeal at me and slap it away. She huffs as she pulls at it, trying to arrange it into my usual style.

"Not this again."

Jasper slams the clipboard onto the table and sighs. His frustration is clear as he turns to face me. "You can't keep holding up filming with 'not feeling it' and 'needing a fluffer'."

His words remind me of Bella, and the way her ass looked so peachily firm, like two puppies fighting in a ball of denim. My cock twitches a little, but even that vision isn't enough to encourage the full twelve inches.

"I can't help it," I protest. And I can't, I really can't. I just keep thinking of how I promised her I wouldn't be filming any sex scenes today, and if I end up doing the dirty with Tits McGee, that kind of makes me a liar.

"Do you need me to call Bella?" Alice asks me pointedly. I shake my head rapidly; the last thing I need is to see her and get a hard-on. This is turning into a really bad day.

I feel like I'm having an existential crisis here, but neither of them seem to notice or care, and I'm left to stew in a clusterfuck of my own making. I don't want to have sex with Rosalie Hale, in fact, I don't want to have sex with anyone except the pretty brunette who's stolen my libido.

Alice scrolls through her phone, her fingers moving down the screen until she smiles triumphantly, turning it around to show me the paparazzi photos of Bella and me in the In 'N' Out drive through.

"There, that should do the trick." Alice licks her lips and I'm feeling very uncomfortable with the way she stares at me. I lower my gaze to the screen, and for the first time, I see the paparazzi shots in all their glory.

Whoever took them must have gotten pretty close to the car. Just a glance at them is enough to make me twitch. The expression of pleasure on Bella's face as my lips suck at her neck is absolutely intoxicating, and I can't even look at the way she grinds against me, for fear I might explode.

"And that's what I'm talking about," Jasper points at my groin. I'm aware that my grey-and-black suit is tenting, and even worse, I'm certain what that means.

It's time to film.

But I can't do it. I can't have sex with another woman knowing how badly it will affect Fluff. I might have laughed at her jealousy this morning, but since she dragged me in the cupboard and told me about her feelings, it doesn't seem so funny anymore.

Alice and Jasper are still staring at my cock. In any other job, this would be a disciplinary offence, but the only discipline that goes on around here tends to involve whips, floggers and the occasional gimp suit. So instead, I find myself turning into a girl, and gesturing at their eyes as they eventually drag their gazes up.

"I'm up here, you know." I point at my face. Alsper grin in unison, and my cheeks flame hot.

Don't they realize I'm going through an epiphany here?

I don't want people to look at my dick first and me second. I don't want to be known as 'The Battery' anymore, or revered for my twelve inch cock. Bella Swan has changed all that, she's changed me and I love the way she always looks at my face.

"I'm not doing this." The relief that engulfs me is incredible. I want to sing and dance-although that brings back memories of Bangin' in the Rain, a movie I'd rather forget. Not least because the filming caused me to contract hypothermia.

Jasper gasps, taking a step back as he raises his hand to his brow.

"Bunny! How the hell is the porn world going to cope without your ten inch dick?"

"It's twelve inches," I correct him automatically.

"Ten, twelve, either way, you're letting down a lot of people."

"Rosalie Hale, for example," Alice interjects helpfully. "Not to mention Goldenballs, all three of him."

I stare at them for a moment, my mouth agape. Then Alice starts to giggle, and Jasper has to hold on to her to stop her falling over, his own laughter reverberating through the air.

"We wondered how long it'd take you to say something," Alice manages to gasp out between giggles. "I put money on you making it into the studio at least."

"Goldenballs had the make-up room in the sweepstakes," Jasper tells me helpfully. "We all owe the bastard ten dollars."

It takes me a moment to catch up, and realize that Jasper doesn't give a damn that I want to flounce the business.

"You all bet on when I'd admit I can't have sex with Rosalie Hale?" I ask them. I wonder when Jasper thought I'd cave.

"Not quite all of us. Nobody was man enough to ask Rosalie if she wanted to join in," Jasper admits, giving me a sheepish grin.

"But the rest of you … " My voice trails off. I try to assimilate the information. From what they're telling me, nobody actually expected me to complete this movie.

"After seeing those pictures on TMZ this morning, I knew there's no way you'd go through with it." Jasper shrugs, looking amazingly unperturbed.

"But we filmed all afternoon. You wasted two hours of crew time, and God knows how much on the set."

Jasper shrugs. "I just filmed Rosalie. I can't tell you how hard it was for us to hold in the laughter, knowing that you thought you were being filmed for two hours. I didn't put the camera on you once."

Alice's giggles ramp up a notch.

I'm torn between kissing them and killing them. I can't believe how lightly Jasper is letting me off, and I feel a little choked-up at what a true friend he is.

"Thanks, man." I slap him on the back. He grins at me and cuffs me around the ear.

"You're not totally indispensible, Bunny boy. We all know nobody looks at the guy when they're watching porn anyway."

"I do." Alice pipes in. Jasper turns to stare at her, his face pulled down into a frown.

"Well, don't," he replies testily, before turning back to me. "Anyway, as I was saying, I'll let you off the filming, but you're going to need to think through what to do next."

"I know," I agree. I've never had any other job but this one-unless you count the occasional day fucking up Starbucks when my mom is in town-and I'm qualified for absolutely nothing. I've got a house in Brentwood that seems to eat dollars, particularly when inhabited by Alsper, and a whole coven of followers that isn't going to take my retirement too lightly.

But I think about Bella, and none of that seems to matter anymore. I want to go home-to our little apartment-and tell her what I've done. I can't wait to sweep her up in my arms and kiss her until her lips hurt.

All of them.

As I'm about to leave, Rosalie comes bursting through the door, her cat-woman mask removed, and her hair flying wildly like somebody's pulled her through a hedge backwards. She mutters something about suing for damages, then turns to me with her hands on her hips, her mouth drawn back into a thin line.

"Are you going to come and fuck me or what, Cullen? I don't have all day, and Eric's balls are kind of freaking me out."

I take a final look at her over-enhanced body and the way her eyes shoot angry sparks.

"As tempting as you made that offer sound, I'd rather stick my balls up my own back passage than spend another moment with you." Her mouth gapes wide as I pull my own mask off.

I push past her, trying to ignore the way our polyester suits try to stick to each other as they touch, and then make my way to my Chevelle. A grin splits my face as I think of Bella and the way I'm going to kiss the shit out of her after I tell her my news.

I drive home with a smile on my face, the California sun warming my skin through the windshield. It's only twenty minutes to her apartment block, and after parking my Chevy, I take the stairs two at a time, eager to see her and sweep her off her feet.

Just before I open the door, I'm brought back down to earth by the sound of yapping and heated conversation leaking through the gaps. I remember that my mom is there, not to mention the hound from hell, and I glance down and realize I'm still wearing the goddamned Batman costume.

Shit.

When I turn the key in the lock and step inside, three pairs of eyes swivel to stare at me. The soft hazel pair have a hint of sympathy, the deep blue pair looks hurt. And the black ones just look evil.

I really hate that dog.

"Edward." My mom is the first to react, and she walks towards me, not even noticing I'm wearing a super hero suit a third grader at Halloween would be ashamed of. I hear a rustle and in her hands I see a glossy tabloid magazine opened to the 'Spotted in Public' section. In the bottom right hand corner is a picture of the hottest scene I've ever performed.

Mom looks really surprised, although it's hard to tell when her skin is pulled tighter than Joan River's facelift. That could just be her normal expression.

"When were you going to tell me about this?" She shoves the magazine under my nose, and I glance at Fluff who is making weird faces, her lips contorting as she tries to mouth something to me. I watch the way it moves and imagine it on my own, as we fuck each others' mouths until we're both out of control.

_Focus, Cullen._

"About what?" I'm determined to play the innocent for as long as possible. I fear Mom's wrath may take the form of a back-hander across my skull, and that hurts like hell.

Then I glance down at the tagline and my blood runs colder than an arctic stream.

I am so fucked.

* * *

**A/N All our love and thanks to A-Jasper-For-Me and Pates for their excellent beta-ing and pre-reading skills. We only wish they could beta our lives. It would be so much more simple.**

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	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24 - Flesh Gordon**

**BPOV**

* * *

I watch as Bunny's face turns an unhealthy shade of white, and the tips of his ears flame red. "Ummmm ..." His eyes widen and I mouth the words he needs. He almost goes cross-eyed trying to understand, and I'm worried he's going to keel over.

Esme waves the glossy magazine at him again. "Edward, I'm so disappointed in you, and quite frankly, I'm hurt."

In the absence of words, he grabs the magazine. His brows furrow as he reads the offending article, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. I can tell when he gets to the caption under the photo because he starts to choke.

I run over and pour him a glass of water. "Here drink this, it's okay." I enunciate the last two syllables hoping he'll get the message.

He looks at me gratefully and gulps down the whole glass, giving himself a few seconds before he has to answer Esme. She is standing on the other side of the breakfast bar with her hand on her hip, her mouth curled down into a frown. "I—I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't want you to find out like this. I was ... ashamed."

Esme gasps in horror, holding her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with utter disbelief.

"Edward Anthony Cullen, I did not bring you up to be so disrespectful to women." Her voice is stern as she gives me an apologetic look.

Bunny hangs his head with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. I grab his hand, hidden from Esme's view, and squeeze it. He returns the gesture, and I'm forced to dig my nails into his skin until he pulls his hand away with a whimper and glares at me. I snatch it back and trace the words against his skin hoping he can tell what I'm trying to say back to front and upside down.

He can't.

"I know. I never meant it to be disrespectful in any way, Mom. I treat all of the women with respect even if people don't see my actions that way. I've never had any complaints from them afterwards." He's hurt by the insinuation, and I can't help the way my stomach flip flops when he mentions those 'other women'. God, I'm so screwed up for this man.

Esme is aghast, and taking three strides, she hits him upside the head with the rolled-up magazine. "There's been _more_ you didn't tell me about?" Her screech makes all of us wince, and I see Emmett scurry under the couch getting his little fat butt stuck as he tries to wiggle into a hiding place.

"Well, yes. There have been a few … more than ten but ... less than a hundred." Oh my, God. I'm going to have to save him, and hope he's okay with what's going to happen next.

"Edward, let me explain." I dig him in the hip at the same time I reach up and kiss his cheek, linking my arm through his. He looks at me like I've escaped the asylum, but "Is Edward 'the Battery' Cullen going the full 12" with new mystery girl" followed up by "Will she want fries with that quarter pounder?" hasn't had quite the reaction Bunny was expecting. No thanks to my quick thinking when I explained that 12" was a type of film reel. Bunny owes me big. Twelve inches at least. I swallow down the laugh that threatens at my thoughts, but I can't stop the flush that rises up my neck.

"Esme, I'm sorry Edward didn't tell you about us. It's my fault. I've never had a serious relationship before, and I wanted to take it slowly." I look up and flutter my lashes at my 'boyfriend', who's transformed into Nemo again.

I walk over to Esme and place my hand on her arm, hoping to pacify her as I bring out the big guns. "I only wish I'd allowed him to introduce us earlier, because now that I've met you, I'm kicking myself for all the fun we've missed out on together. Can you forgive me?"

Esme's face lights up and she crushes me in her arms then leans back, holding me at arm's length. "You don't know how long I've waited for Edward to bring a beautiful and decent girlfriend like you home." She narrows her eyes at him over my shoulder, and I can't wait to find out who Esme deems a 'non-decent girlfriend'. He still hasn't said a word, as if he's gone into shock.

"Thank you. He wanted to introduce me to you a while ago, but I wanted to be sure he was the one for me," I beam up at him, "and he is." I add, wondering when I'm going to shut the hell up. I'm enjoying this role play thing way too much.

He finally clears his throat and moves to wrap his arm around my waist, hugging his mom with the other. "I'm sorry, Mom."

He mouths something over her head that bears a striking resemblance to 'I fucking love you', but I can't be one hundred percent sure. I swallow, feeling heat rising in my cheeks. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

I leave Bunny to talk to his Mom, and scoop up Emmett, carrying him to my room. We snuggle on my bed together, and he burrows into the covers next to my hip leaning his squishy little head on my lap.

"How did this happen, Emmy?" I tickle the top of his head and he sighs, looking up at me with his big brown eyes. "I like him you know." He emits a huff and slowly closes his eyes as if he's disappointed in me. "You do too really, don't you?" He actually growls, and I freeze in my ministrations, suddenly understanding why Bunny worries he might lose a finger if he goes near him. "Okay, okay. We'll have to agree to disagree." I swear to God he nods.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I know Bunny is waking me up. I grab onto his face, my eyes still adjusting to the poor light in my bedroom. "Are you real?"

I can feel his five o'clock shadow under my fingertips, and I rub them back and forth, making him laugh. His breath smells like warm chocolate. "I'm as real as they come."

"Good." I close my eyes and try to pull him down with me, but a low rumbling growl reminds me the warmth along my side is a living and breathing Bunny-hating Pug. "Oops. Sorry, Emmy." I let go of Bunny and pull Emmett into my arms, which makes Bunny growl as deeply as a Doberman.

"Now, now boys. You have to share me." I kiss his doggy face, his pink tongue darts out and licks my nose making me giggle.

"Jesus fuck, Fluff. Do not let the hound of hell lick you, or I'll never be able to kiss you again." Bunny screws his face up and shudders.

"Oh, be quiet. I can kiss whoever I like." I joke. Emmett gives me one last kiss and wriggles out of my arms, jumping down off the bed. With a final glare in Bunny's direction, he saunters out of the room.

"I thought you said _I_ was your serious boyfriend." Bunny leans over me, the bed dipping under his weight.

"Yes, well I thought that was more preferable to being a gangbanging porn star." I tug on his earlobe gently to show him I'm kidding. Sort of.

"Thank you for that. I know she needs to know, but ..."

"Maybe she doesn't need to know." I hook my fingers into the collar of his white t-shirt, feeling the smattering of golden hairs on his chest against the back of my fingers as I pull him down.

"I wanted to talk to you about my job."

"Can we save the talking 'til later?"

I don't wait for his answer, tilting my head up. He dips and the warmth of his breath tickles my lips, his fingers tracing across my jaw and wrapping into my hair until they cup the back of my head. Bunny's slow movements are achingly intimate, and he watches me intently, making my heart frantically thump against my ribs. When he sweeps his lips across mine, I hum with anticipation that turns into a whimper when his mouth returns to press harder.

His lips are sweet and warm, and when he slides his tongue against mine, I definitely taste chocolate. I want to lose myself in his kisses. He releases some of his weight from his elbows, lowering his body and pressing me into the mattress. It scatters my heartbeat across the room. "You taste so good."

A low growl rumbles in his chest as I start to scrape my nails across his neck, and it's then I remember his mother is in the next room along with another more horrifying revelation—the dinner. I push him up, and he scowls, his lips, wet and red from our kiss, entice me to pull him back—to hell with the dinner. "Why are you eating chocolate? What time is it?"

"It's half past six. I was coming to wake you. Your dad will be here in a while and I'm hungry."

I leap up so fast, he almost falls off the edge of the bed, and I have to scramble to keep my balance, gripping his shoulder while blood rushes to my head. "Whoa, what's wrong?"

I bend down to look in his eyes so he understands the seriousness of this situation. "We've just told your mom we're in a serious relationship, Bunny. My dad knows you're a porn star. Your mom and my dad are going to be in that room together. Can you see what my problems is here?"

He nods, realization slowly dawning on his face. "Oh, shit."

"Yes. 'Oh, shit' is quite the understatement." I start to pace back and forth. "What are we going to do? There is no way your mom will keep quiet about it." I pause, rubbing circles into my temples as if it will create a brainwave to solve the situation.

"We could blackmail him with the hot tub again."

"That's not the problem. I know my dad. He's already suspecting there's something going on between us. If she confirms it, he'll flip his lid. Hot tub or no hot tub."

"We can just tell him the truth." Bunny shrugs, pulling me to sit next to him. "Stop that, you're making me feel dizzy."

I slap my palms on my knees and then bury my head in my hands. "I'm so confused. What is even the truth anymore?" I twist to look at him.

"Look, Fluff. If we take away all this crap, the bottom line is I like you. A lot. A whole fucking lot."

"You do?"

He rolls his eyes dramatically at my smile. It only takes a few words from him and I feel calm again. "Which part of this whole clusterfuck is making you doubt my feelings for you? The way I keep telling you, the way I can't stop kissing you or maybe it's the permanent hard-on I have when I come within twelve yards of you."

I smack him with a pillow, and he grabs me, pulling me down onto the covers, tickling me until I can hardly breathe. "Stop it. Stop it." I gasp, and resort to tugging on his hair until he listens. He settles next to me, his body stretched out alongside mine. I want to roll over and straddle him.

"I like having you as my pretend serious girlfriend. I think we should maybe think about it when all this is over."

"We'll see. There's some things I might have to address before I'm willing to enter into a contract for a longer term arrangement."

"Anything." He's inches away from kissing me when the door bells sounds through the apartment accompanied by Emmett's erratic barking.

We both jump off the bed, our feet tangling together and sending us straight back down to the floor with a thump. "Ow, shit. Who the hell is that?"

He pulls me up and I straighten my top then follow him out to the hallway where Esme already has her hand on the doorknob. I'm momentarily surprised to smell something delicious cooking in the oven and see the table laid. Who would have thought, Bunny can cook?

The door flies open and we both mouth the same word at each other behind Esme's back.

'Fuck'.

* * *

**A/N Thanks to A-Jasper-For-Me and Grnidgirl for all their help. Many thanks to each and every one of you for reading, reviewing and pimping, you make our day.  
**

**We often post teasers and pictures in our Facebook groups - so come chat with us on Facebook or twitter - our links are on the profile page.**

**See you next time, Sparrow and Choc xx**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25 - The Legover Part 3**

**EPOV**

There's nothing more inappropriate than getting a hard-on in front of your pretend-girlfriend's Elvis-impersonator of a dad. But seeing her silently mouth the word 'fuck' is like a shot of Viagra to not-so-little Ed. I want to hear Fluff as she moans the word again and again.

All of which is a minor distraction as we both stand back and stare at Charlie Swan. He is in the hallway, his dark hair gelled back and his white seventies-style suit just begging for some Saturday Night Beaver.

But what really stands out is the metal contraption he has in front of him. His palms are curled around the rubberized handles, and the seat is empty but for a fluffy pink cushion. I briefly wonder if he's brought it around as a potential prop for a movie, but even I draw the line at that sort of thing.

"What's with the wheelchair, Dad?" Fluff whispers. Charlie shrugs and pushes it into the living room, and I step back to let him pass. He swerves it around until it's in the middle of the carpet, a huge metal elephant in the room.

"I brought a bottle of Chianti," Charlie says conversationally, thrusting the brown paper-wrapped bottle into my hands. He barely looks at me, though the malevolence in his eyes is enough to make me recoil. Between Charlie and Emmett, it looks like my day is about to get a whole lot worse.

"Thanks." I take the bottle and place it on the dining table. "Can I get you a glass?"

My eyes keep wandering over to the wheelchair. I'm completely perplexed. Why the hell did he bring it?

"I'm driving." He raises an eyebrow at me. "I don't like to do anything like that in my car. In fact, I'm very particular about what I do in there."

"Some water then?" I pour him a glass from the carafe on the table. I'm itching to run away into the kitchen, where I can hear my mom crashing pans and boiling water. The lasagne is in the oven so I can't begin to think what she's doing in there.

I pass Charlie the water and scoot backwards. He leans to kiss Bella on the cheek.

"Something smells delicious, what are you cooking? Burgers?"

Fluff shakes her head, her eyes as wide as saucers. She's clearly reading more into this conversation than I am.

"I'm baking a lasagne," I interject helpfully.

Charlie raises his eyebrows. "Oh really? You strike me as more of a take-out man."

I take offense at this. I'm a healthy, wholesome guy. I hardly ever eat take-out. I'm not really a big fan of burgers unless you're talking ...

In 'n' Out.

Oh, fuck.

I literally freeze on the carpet. It's one thing having my mom see the pictures, quite another knowing the poor man's Elvis has seen the evidence of me doing the dirty with his baby girl. I try to erase the images from my mind, but all I can see is Fluff grinding in my lap, our lips entwined, and her hands tugging my hair so hard it makes me moan.

And her dad saw those pictures?

"Can I have a word with you?" Fluff grabs Charlie's arm and goes to drag him to her room, but he's steadfast and doesn't move an inch. She tugs again, muttering something about hot tubs and muff diving, but he emits a growl loud enough to make both of us jump.

"You see that wheelchair, Cullen?" He points at it as if I'm blind and unable to see the thing dominating Fluff's living room.

"Yes," I squeak out a reply.

"That belonged to my mother. My dead mother." He puts emphasis on the word dead. I feel myself start to shake. Compared to Charlie, Emmett is like an adoring puppy. I find myself longing for his evil barks.

"Dad ... " Fluff's voice holds a warning, but he shrugs it off in a way only an angry, protective father can.

"As I was saying, Cullen, this wheelchair was my mother's mode of transportation for the last twenty years of her life. She lived in that thing. She laughed in it, she cried in it." His voice drops an octave. "She died in it."

I hear Bella gasp back a sob.

Am I the only one that's finding this shit creepy?

"When she died, I folded this wheelchair up and put it at the back of my closet, certain one day it would come in handy."

His blue eyes pierce mine, waiting on my response. I nod my head rapidly.

"Today, son, is that day." He walks over and gets the chair, pushing it toward me until it almost touches the back of my knees. "Momma always said it was the comfiest chair she'd ever had. Why don't you try it out?"

"Er ... no, I don't think ..." My protests fall on deaf ears. He pushes me down, his grip surprisingly strong. My ass hits the pink furry cushion and I look up at Fluff, confusion written all over my face.

"Stop it, Dad," she admonishes. He waves her off again.

"What do you think, Cullen? Is it comfy like Momma said?"

To be frank, it's the most uncomfortable thing I've sat on since I made 'Bed o' Nails 5' but who am I to contradict the dead Mrs Swan? So I nod in agreement and watch an evil smile spread across his face.

"That's good, boy … that's real good. Because if you ever touch my daughter again, this wheelchair is yours. Do you understand me?"

I have to cross my legs in an effort not to pee my pants.

"Dad, that's not funny." I look up to see Bella staring him down with a withering glance. Charlie shakes his head and mutters something about it not being a joke, and I have to agree with his point of view.

"Edward, why are you sitting in that thing?" My mom walks out of the kitchen wearing an apron with 'Did I Just Walk Into a Garden? 'Cos All I See Are Hoes.' written across it. I can't figure out if it belongs to her or Fluff.

She sees Charlie standing next to me and her demeanor immediately changes. She starts to simper, running a hand across her over-teased hair, her eyelashes fluttering.

"And who is this gorgeous specimen of a man?"

I splutter out a laugh as Charlie starts to turn red, but a dark look from him is enough to remind me I'm still sitting in the wheelchair. I casually stand up and look at Fluff, who mouths a 'sorry' through pink rosebud lips.

"I'm Charlie Swan, Bella's father." He leans forward to shake Mom's hand. She places her fingers in his palm and looks at him expectantly. He eventually gets the message and lifts her hand to his lips. I wonder if she's getting an added exfoliation from his bushy 'tache.

"I can see where she gets her good looks."

Charlie's blush deepens and I see where Bella got that from too. His hand is still wrapped around my mom's and I'm starting to feel a bit uncomfortable about the whole situation.

"I don't see any resemblance between Edward and you at all." He says it as if it's a compliment.

Mom giggles. "Oh, he takes after his late father." She leans closer toward Elvis-lite. "Did he tell you I'm a widow?"

"I'm sorry to hear that ma'am."

Her smile is wide. Almost voracious. "I've been alone for a long time. I'm very available."

Charlie coughs, I choke and Bella wheezes. My mom stands there grinning, waiting for his response. His mouth starts moving but no sound comes out, and I want to hug my mom for being the one who finally makes Charlie Swan speechless.

The oven timer pings, giving me a reason to do something other than stand and watch my mom try to seduce Bella's dad. I turn and walk into the kitchen, trying to pretend I can't hear him telling her she's the spitting image of Priscilla Presley.

I'm thinking she might be more Queen of the Desert, but who am I to contradict?

As I pull the bubbling pasta from the oven and place it on the counter, my phone starts to ring. I pull it from my pocket, checking the display to see it's Jasper calling.

"What's up?" I'm praying he hasn't clogged up the hot tub again.

"Is that Ed 'The Battery' Cullen, famous porn star and multiple award nominee?"

I roll my eyes.

Bella opens the kitchen door and sidles in, her face a mask of disgust. I don't know what they're doing in the living room, but it's clearly enough to make her scowl.

"What are you talking about, you douche?" I speak down the mouthpiece to Jasper. I wink at Fluff and she smiles back at me.

"I'm talking about the AVNs, my friend. The goddamned Adult Video News awards. I'm talking about the fact you've been nominated in five, yes five, categories. You're going out in a blaze of glory, Bunny."

A smile creeps across my face. Though I've decided to retire, it's pretty awesome to know I'm going out on top. Literally.

"That's cool." I glance at Bella and wonder what the hell she'll think when I tell her the news. Should I even say anything? I wonder if I can just disappear to Vegas for a few days without letting her know why I'm going.

Because what self-respecting pretend-girlfriend would be pleased her pretend-boyfriend is getting an award for banging other women?

Fluff looks back at me, her eyes hot with desire and all thoughts of awards and nominations fly out of my head. She licks her lips and I harden instantly.

" ... so we've booked two hotel rooms on the strip. Alice wants to know if Bella wants to go shopping for an outfit." I only half take in what Jasper is saying.

"What?"

Jasper slows his voice, and I can tell he's getting annoyed with my lack of attention. "Jasper and Alice want to know what Bella is taking to wear in Vegas. Does she need some help picking outfits? We're thinking gold lame and sequins."

Shit, fuck. Buggery bollocks. Bella stares up at me when she hears Jasper say her name, and I realize there's no getting out of this one.

She's staring at me with her lips slightly open, all swollen and lovely and begging to be kissed. I lean forward and brush mine against her, a soft, barely-there kiss that makes my heart beat faster and all the breath rush out of her mouth. I stare at her, trying to will everything to be okay. In spite of everything—my poorly thought out career choices, my mad excuse for a family, and the terrible impression I've made on hers-for some reason this girl still seems to like me. I feel like the luckiest guy in the world.

So I push my luck a little more when I grin widely and say the words every girl wants to hear.

"Do you fancy a trip to Vegas, baby?"

* * *

**A/N Thanks to A-Jasper-For-Me and Grnidgirl for all their help polishing our words. And to you for reading, reviewing and pimping. You all deserve a ride in Charlie's wheelchair (on Bunny's lap of course).**

**A quick warning that updates may be slow over the next couple of weeks. Real life has reared it's ugly head but we're fighting it with a 12 inch sword. Thanks Bunny.**

**See you next time, Sparrow and Choc xx**


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26 – Thick Degrees of Penetration**

**BPOV**

* * *

"Vegas?"

Bunny nods and slips his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, taking a step toward me. "Yep. There's this thing I have to go to, and I'd like you to be my date."

He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me closer until my hands rest against the hard planes of his chest, and I have to tip my head up to look at him. "A thing?" I'm already dubious, but he's doing a good job of distracting me from my line of questioning with his wandering hands.

"Yeah." He levels his lips with mine, brushing a soft kiss against them. "It's an awards thing."

My response is silenced with Bunny's tongue, which doesn't hold any prisoners and goes straight for the kill, pushing against mine. The slant of his mouth deepening his kiss and his fingers twisting into my hair, as he walks me backward until I feel the cool press of the refrigerator door behind me.

The shock of the change in temperature against my heated skin clears the haze of Bunny lust for a moment, and I break away from his lips. His mouth is parted, his breath coming out in pants. One look at him and my dad will have a conniption. "Bunny, we have to stop." I slide my eyes to the kitchen door and laugh when his handsome face twists into a scowl.

"So you'll come then?" He relinquishes his hold on me, and picks up the lasagna.

"Is this an awards thing for your… movies?" I whisper the last word in case Esme is hovering behind the door, or more likely my dad. A flutter of nerves starts up in my stomach and a vision of watching the nominations for Best Porno flash up in my mind. A swirling mass of heaving, sweaty, moaning bodies in which Bunny's face features in every single one. I'm not sure I can handle seeing him win an award for his outstanding performance in Gang Bangs of New York. I must wince because his eyes soften, and he leans in whispering in my ear. "It won't be as bad as you're thinking. I promise, and it's going to be my final one ever."

"Your final one? Why?" My eyes flash to his crotch and widen. "Oh, your little problem."

"No not that." He rolls his eyes, juggling the casserole dish and a bowl of salad, which strains his biceps in the most mouthwatering way. I consider leaving him to struggle, but I have a sneaking suspicion he's burning himself and trying to be manly about it, so I unburden him of his load. "And anyway, it's not a small problem."

"So I've heard."

"So you've seen."

I bite back my grin and huff out a breath. "Numerous times. Come on, I don't want to leave them alone for too long in there. God knows what they'll be getting up to."

I hold the door open for him, and as he walks past, he lowers his voice and drops a kiss on my bare shoulder, hiding his words from our parents who are watching us like a proud mother hen and an irate hawk trained to kill. "It's my last award ceremony before I retire."

I squeak out a response, but it's lost amongst Esme's praise for her son's culinary skills and my father's concerns over hand hygiene. While Bunny's explaining that he always washes his hands after handling meat, I can't even move as I roll his words around my head. Did he just say what I think he said?

"Are you okay, Bella?" Esme snaps me out of my daze, and I see Bunny smile. The slight nod of his head confirms I did hear him correctly, and when I sit down at the table and feel his hand squeeze my thigh, even the wheelchair pulled up next to Bunny with Emmett sat on it like the Queen of Sheba, can't dampen my mood.

"So Bella, why don't you tell me all about how you two love birds met?" Esme asks, passing the Parmesan over to me. Oh, fuck. We should have thought through our back story.

"Yes, Bella … Edward, I'd love to hear this." I glare at Dad, who steeples his fingers, elbows balanced on the table and turns to Bunny who looks like he wants to slide under the table.

"Erm … we met at a party. It wasn't very romantic, but Edward offered to help me when my car broke down."

Esme pats Bunny's hand. "Such a gentleman."

Dad snorts, disguising it as a tickle in his throat when Esme turns her attention on him. I sense his weak spot immediately.

"Dad works with cars, Esme. He especially loves the classics." I can almost feel the tension leave Bunny as the spotlight moves off him.

"Oh, yes. He's been telling me all about it." Esme flutters her eyelashes at him, and a slight blush rises on his cheeks. "He's offered to take me out for a spin in his convertible."

I feel the spray of water on my cheek at the same time I hear Bunny spluttering. Esme jumps up and runs over, patting his back. "Are you okay?"

He waves her away, coughing into his hand, while my dad's smile broadens into a smug grin. "Went down the wrong way."

"You should be more careful. We wouldn't want you to choke." Dad returns to his lasagna, but not before I kick him in the shin. His eyes widen with the innocent glint of someone who is truly evil.

I stand up and offer red wine to everyone, pausing over my dad's shoulder and whisper in his ear. "Stop it or I'll introduce Connie Lingus to this riveting conversation."

He freezes, and when I return to sit opposite him, he rubs his moustache for a minute and then thinking better of continuing to torment poor Bunny, he turns the conversation to a lighter topic.

By the time we get to dessert, I'm feeling positively drunk. The red wine flowing through my veins is making me feel warm and sluggish. I've finally let my guard down and am actually relaxing. Dad is continuing his attempts to woo Esme, who is about to give herself whiplash if she doesn't stop flicking her hair every time he looks at her. I'm not sure how many starlets he's going to compare her to, but the list seems never ending. The fact she looks nothing like Marilyn Monroe or Bettie Paige seems to bear no relevance. It seems parental embarrassment is the torture of choice in Dad's vendetta but it's the lesser evil to him trying to play a game of _Who Am I_ with Bunny—a game they both will lose. The Porn Star and The Hot Tub King.

"And how's your car Edward, you said it was in Charlie's garage?" Esme picks up a strawberry and begins nibbling on it. An act that has my dad fascinated. I try not to groan, but it is probably the most cringe-worthy display I've ever witnessed. We need to nip this in the bud before it goes any further. I shoot my eyes to Bunny, who looks like he's going to be sick.

He manages to form a coherent response though he still appears to be sucking on a lemon. "Yes, it's mended now. Some idiot left a huge dent in my door."

"It wasn't that huge." I drain the last drops of my red wine. Perhaps drinking until I pass out is the best way forward. Then memories of my dad flirting will disappear from my memory forever. One can only hope.

"How do you know?" Bunny's voice breaks into my lethargy.

"What?" I look over at him, his brow is furrowed and his head is cocked to one side, inquisitively.

"How do you know about the dent? You never saw it?"

Holy fucking hell.

"Erm … I saw it at the garage."

"No you didn't." Dad interjects unhelpfully.

"Yes. I. Did." I try to warn him, but he's got his evil mastermind grin back, and he's definitely not backing down.

"No. You saw it afterward. When we'd got all the pale blue paint off it and tapped out the dent." Dad folds his arms across his chest before he lays out the final piece of evidence. "It's a funny thing, Bella, the blue was a very similar shade to Bettie. What a coincidence." He chuckles and Esme joins in.

I slowly turn to Bunny, whose face looks like it's carved out of marble. Cold and stony.

Fuck my life.

* * *

**A/N ****Thank You so much for reading, we adore your reviews and hope you are having as much fun as we are. Sorry this is a little late you can blame Dior Rob. Swoon.**

**A-JASPER-FOR-ME and Grnidgrl fluff our writing so perfectly, that we want to give them each a night with Bunny & Dior Rob.**

**Thank you to Kassiah for the shout out on The Fictionators. We may have squealed a little. A lot.**

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**Love, Sparrow and Choc x**


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27 - Clash of the Tight Ones**

* * *

**EPOV**

Silence.

Not the light-hearted, convivial kind, where everybody's feeling buzzed and enjoying the moment.

No, this is the heavy, ice-laden, furious type of silence, where you are struck dumb because she kept something important from you and it makes you very angry.

Scratch that, angry doesn't cover it at all. I'm absolutely fucking furious.

I whip my head around, staring at her peaches-and-cream complexion all flushed pink with alcohol and fear. Her trembling lips fall open, and she exhales rapidly with sexy little puffs of air that make me want to simultaneously fuck her and kill her.

Definitely in that order.

I'm not a pervert.

Her eyes flash and flicker, reflecting the candles covering the table, and I narrow my own, enjoying the way she squirms a little too much. I'm tense and wound up, an ex-porn star with balls so blue they make Smurfette look a whiter shade of pale. I'm a perfect storm just waiting to be unleashed.

"You scratched my car?" My tone drips with acid, each word slowly enunciated with painful precision. Fluff flinches, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, grazing the soft inner flesh with her incisors. Her eyes are as wide and pale as a harvest moon, and she nods slowly, her gaze flickering over to Charlie, who is gazing stoically at the table.

"It was an accident ... " Her protest is drowned out by Emmett, whose high-pitched wail makes my mom leap to her feet, scooping him into her heavily-bangled arms.

"Oh Emmy, baby, don't cry." Mom looks up at me. "He's so sensitive, he hates negative atmospheres. I'm going to get him out of here, I can't afford another course of intensive therapy."

If I wasn't so pissed, I might find this funny. As it is, I shake my head and roll my eyes, not letting her see my reaction.

"I was just leaving," Charlie stands up, running a hand through his thickly-gelled hair. "I can give you a lift."

"That would be wonderful, maybe you can take me to a motel."

"Mom ..." My voice holds a warning. There's no way I'm letting her leave with Charlie Swan.

"I'll drop her off at the hotel down the road," Charlie assures me, and I'm reassured by his genuine tone. I nod curtly, my eyes never leaving Fluff's. Mom excuses herself to pack an overnight case, and from the corner of my eye, I can see Emmett baring his fangs at me in a fleshy-grin as she carries him over to her bag.

After they leave, I continue to stare at Fluff. The pulse point in her neck twitches rapidly, her tender skin vibrating beneath the pressure. I want to wrap my lips around it, suck at her 'til she moans, taste her skin and her sweat and the sweet blood that's pumping so close to the surface.

"Bunny, I—"

"Shut. Up."

I grab her hand and pull her up, spinning her round until her back is against the wall, her mahogany waves falling haphazardly to her shoulders. Her chest heaves as I cage her in with my arms, and I feel like a coiled spring on a hair trigger, about to explode in anger and lust and pure sexual frustration.

I'm as hard as steel, my cock straining against the fabric of my jeans in a way that's almost painful. I flex my hips and grind it against her, making her mouth fall open to moan in a dragged-out, whorish way.

It's like music to my ears.

"I'm so pissed with you I can't think straight." My voice is harsh as sandpaper when I whisper in her ear. "You lied to me."

"I didn't mean—"

"Did I say you could talk?" I grab her chin between my long fingers, lifting her face up until it's inches away from mine. Her breath hitches, and I lean down to crash my lips against hers, my body rough, demanding and furious.

"I should teach you a lesson." I drag my hand down her side, my fingers curling around the generous flesh of her hot ass, digging in, cupping, kneading. Her leg pushes between mine until her thigh grinds against my cock, and it's my turn to moan, lights flashing in my eyes as pleasure spikes my body, her movements insistent and firm.

"So teach me." Her voice is soft and breathy. It makes me want to fuck her mouth.

"There are certain things you don't mess with." I drag my teeth down her neck, sucking insistently at her skin, biting gently. "A man's wife, or his girl." I dip my tongue into the ridge between her neck and chest. She's shivering beneath my touch. "A man's livelihood, which, by the way, you've completely fucked with."

I push her top down beneath her breasts, revealing a light blue lacy bra, her tits perky and light beneath the fabric as I run my mouth down the valley between them. The material irritates me and I grab at it, squeezing my hands until the fabric rips and her sweet tits are exposed, her areolas pink and flushed, her nipples hard and tight.

"Most of all," I continue, my tongue running a trail of fire on the underside of her breasts. "You never ..." I lift my hand and squeeze a nipple, " ever ..." my tongue laps at her skin, getting closer to her peak, but then circling around it until she screams with frustration, "fuck with a man's car." I close my mouth around her, sucking hard until her legs buckle, and I have to grab her by the thighs to steady her.

I lift her until she's resting on my thigh, her back against the hard wall, and I push up her skirt until it bunches at her waist. I barely have to run a gentle finger against her panties before she groans, her wetness seeping through the fabric and onto my palm.

"If you fuck with my stuff, sweetheart," I move my mouth back up until my lips are right next to her ear, "I'm gonna fuck with you."

I push a finger beneath her panties, my movements aided by the slickness of her flesh. She's warm and soft and everything I hoped she'd be, and I feel my cock weep with pleasure.

"Edward." Her head falls back against the wall as I push a finger inside her, and she clenches against me as I move. I twist my hand until my thumb brushes against her clit, making her squeeze me harder. She's so close I can almost taste her pleasure, and I ease a second finger inside, gently rubbing against the soft part of her pussy until she's a hot, incoherent mess. I start to rock my hips in time to the movement of my fingers, my cock dragging against her hip, and I know she's so close to the edge. When she gets there, it's going to be the hottest, dirtiest, most frenzied orgasm I've ever seen.

"Have you learned your lesson?" I drop my lips to hers, brushing lightly over them as I speak. Her breath is hot and harsh against my mouth, and I push my tongue between her lips, scraping it against hers. She explodes beautifully, convulsing against my fingers as she screams out my name, her body sagging against mine for a long, sexy, drawn-out minute. I kiss her roughly, tongues sliding as I devour her loud moans, my fingers still moving gently inside. My cock is throbbing in my pants, pushing insistently against the hot denim of my jeans, pleasure coiling in my belly. A man with less classical training might have jizzed in his shorts, but I take a couple of deep breaths to get my excitement under control, not wanting my first orgasm with Fluff to be little more than a nocturnal emission.

Even if she's every hot-blooded man's wet dream.

Her head drops against my shoulder, her lips pressing into my chest, and I feel her smile against my skin.

"Well, that showed me." There's laughter in her voice and it makes me grin. My legs regain their strength, and I lift her up, wrapping her legs around my waist, her thighs warm and clammy where they touch my skin. I carry her across the living room and into the hallway, using my black-booted foot to kick open the door.

I lay her gently on the bed and she cups my face with her hands, pressing her lips to mine. I tangle my fingers in her silky waves, our embrace softer, more emotional than before. For the first time on this fucked up, crazy day a sense of peace washes over me.

Maybe we can really make this thing work.

* * *

**A/N We would like to take this opportunity to point out that the above chapter is all Dior Rob's fault. Any complaints should be sent straight to him, send them care of DIOR Hottie, LA. They'll get there.**

**Thank You so much for reading, and for your great reviews, they always put a smile on our faces. **

**A-JASPER-FOR-ME and Grnidgrl rock our world. They also clean up our chapters pretty damn well.**

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**Love, Sparrow and Choc x**


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28 - Ocean's Twelve Inches**

**BPOV**

* * *

I'm not quite sure what the fuck just happened.

I am sure, however, that Bunny's fingers ought to be awarded for their outstanding abilities.

The most explosive orgasm I've ever had at the hands of a man has left my knees incapable of holding my body up. And when I say hands, I'm being literal. My mind boggles when I think about what he'll do to me with his other equipment.

My thoughts turn to slush when he drags his tongue up my throat and whispers in my ear. "You taste like fucking cotton candy."

"I do?"

He chuckles, his smile pressed against my skin. "You do. I can't get enough. I've always had a sweet tooth."

"I'm not sweet." My eyes roll back in my head when he bites down on my earlobe, his hands sliding under my top, fingers tapping up my ribs as if he's counting them.

His head dips to my collarbone, his responsive hum vibrates straight to every nerve in my body. Not satisfied with one orgasm, they're already screaming for more, and I pull on the material of his t-shirt to get it over his head.

Bunny helps me out when I get it stuck and when I lie back on the bed, his hot skin is pressing against mine, and my top is strewn across the floor. The man has skills. A thought which starts an alarm bell ringing in the back of my mind. But for now, it's quiet enough to be drowned out by the desire rushing through my veins.

"So you're not sweet then?" He leans over me, balancing on his elbows with a smirk twisting his lips.

"Absolutely not." I splay my fingers across the hard planes of his chest, tracing the contours of his muscles. Sculpting them in clay was a poor imitation. I don't think I'll ever be able to stop touching him.

"What about cute?" He cocks his head and drops a kiss on my nose as I lift my thigh, hooking it over his hips and pushing up against him making him groan.

"Not cute either."

"Fuck, Fluff. You can't do that. I—" It's then that he pushes his hips back into mine, long and slow, the hardness of his cock against the thin lace of my panties pulls a whimper from my lips.

Jesus fucking Christ. How the fuck is this going to fit? I start to panic, huffing little pants of breath, which spur him on more, his warm tongue tracing the outline of my nipple through my bra until he sucks it into his mouth.

I arch into him as he circles his hips, grinding between my legs, creating friction that could easily send me over the edge, but all I can think of now it how a Sharpie won't fit in a pencil sharpener, a rope won't fit through the eye of a needle, and I sure as fuck can't fit a foot long turkey sub in my mouth.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Bunny." My voice doesn't seem to work, the words slurring out, barely audible over the moans I can't control as he rips down my bra, grasping my breast, his hips increasing their pressure.

I dig my nails into his back, spurring on his groans, and I momentarily lose my mind when his hands push down on the insides of my knees, spreading my legs wider. I find my own scrambling on the waistband on his jeans, flicking open the button. My mind is a split personality. Half wants me to cross my legs to keep my lady parts in one piece, and the other wants Bunny too badly to worry about being speared on the end of his enormous appendage. The wanton hussy wins out because in two seconds, he's standing in front of me in a pair of tight black boxers, and I'm reaching for him.

"Take off your skirt." His voice is husky, and I feel its effects fluttering from my stomach to the heat pooling between my legs.

I wriggle out of it and for the first time, feel the flush of embarrassment on my cheeks as he watches me. What do I look like to him? Is this sexy enough? Porny enough? How should I moan? Loudly, high-pitched, screaming, whimpers. What does he prefer? What if it's not me?

That does it.

I sit up and cover my chest. "Bunny."

"Fuck, you're so beautiful." His hands are everywhere, but the images flashing in my mind have dampened my ardour.

"Bunny." I say it louder this time and reach to turn his face to mine.

His brow creases in concern, and he lifts his weight up off my body. "Are you okay?"

"I—I don't know." My stammering only gets worse when he looks at me with worry and brushes his fingers over my shoulder.

"If you're worried about STDs, you don't need to. I get tested regularly, and I have condoms."

I hadn't even been thinking about horrible sounding diseases, but his comment added to the panic. And my mind, that cruel bitch, remembered the lyrics to the STD song and helpfully sang it to me, tipping me right over the edge into full blown panic.

"It's not that. Well it wasn't, but now that you mention it, well ..."

"Hey, hey come here." He sits up and pulls me into his arms. "Talk to me, Fluff. What's wrong?"

I cover my naked breasts, feeling like a ridiculous idiot. This is a man used to confident sexual women, and I'm making a total fool of myself, cowering from his twelve inch one-eyed monster like a wimp.

He leans down to the floor to pick up his t-shirt, rocking me with him. Handing it over to me, I slip it on, making feel so much better I'm not trying to have a serious conversation my nipples are refusing to get on board with. They've made their feelings known by being stuck up and tight.

"Talk to me. Please."

"I just ... I only ever order a six inch sub. I want to try a foot-long. Seriously, I really, really do, but it scares me. What if I can't fit it in?" My words tumble out, and I refuse to look him in the eyes knowing I sound like a lunatic. Maybe I am.

"Shit. You're hungry? You want me to feed you?" He starts to get up but pauses when I shake my head.

"No. I'm not hungry. I'm nervous."

"Nervous of Subway? I know they're not the best in the world but I've never had a bad one."

I laugh at the ridiculousness of this conversation and hide my face in his neck. "I'm talking about you."

"Me? And Subway? I'm confused? I do get a foot-long but that's 'cause I eat like a horse. I need the energy …"

"I'm talking about your cock."

"Wha ..."

I can't control my nervous laughter, and I have to slap my hand over my mouth. I'm losing it.

It takes him a moment, but he finally gets it and barks out a laugh of his own, shaking his head.

"You're worried about Little Ed?"

I nod, my cheeks burning with embarrassment at possibly the most cringe-worthy conversation I've ever had. "Little Ed's not so little, and I ... am. I panicked when I thought about porn stars and how you want me to act then you mentioned STDs, and I sang the song, and I freaked. I'm sorry."

"You sang a song?"

I waved a hand in the air. "Never mind, just ... I'm sorry. I should have said something earlier."

"Fluff. Can you stop apologizing to me, and can I tell you something? Two things, actually."

I nod and shuffle back slightly so we sat opposite each other and I can see his face.

"I think you are so incredibly beautiful and sexy. I've not stopped thinking about you since the moment I laid eyes on you. I'm not even going to compare you to anyone else because you're so much more ... look, what I'm trying to say is, you've blown through my life like a freaking storm, changing everything from how it used to be. I'm gonna chase you until you're mine."

He runs a hand through his hair, making it more fucked-up than usual.

"Now that I've met you, I'm not letting you go. So please promise me you'll never compare yourself to other women 'cause you're in another league as far as I'm concerned. And while I am on this roll ..." He leans forward and presses a kiss to my lips, " ... don't ever hide yourself from me."

"I was just embarrassed. I ..."

Bunny kisses my stuttering away. "I'll never get tired of looking at you and believe me when I say I'm going to be doing a lot of it, so you'd better get used to it. Nobody has ever turned me on like you do. Jesus fuck, Fluff, I've had a hard-on since the incident at the porn studio."

His words seems to float around my head for a moment before they sink in, and I smile, disbelieving what I'm hearing though my stomach flip-flops and my heart's leaping all over my chest. "Really?"

"Yes, really." He rolls his eyes playfully.

I'm on cloud nine.

"What else were you going to say?"

Bunny rubs the back of his neck and smiles sheepishly. "Well if it'll make you feel better, we can go to the clinic and I'll get tested and ... " His voice drops to a barely discernible whisper.

"Okay, maybe that's a good idea." I can't deny it will give me peace of mind, saving me form the worry of getting a piece of something more unsavory. "What was the other thing I didn't hear?"

He huffs and holds out his hands in surrender. "I might have been exaggerating."

"Exaggerating? About what?" I narrow my eyes at him.

"The twelve inches."

My mouth falls open. "I knew it! So it's not that big?"

He scowls at me, and I can tell he wants to fold his arms over his chest. "It's still big."

"How big?"

"Big enough."

"Oh my God. Tell me or I'm getting my ruler."

"You have not got a ruler."

I jump off my bed and root around in my drawer, pulling out a wooden ruler. "Ta-da."

"Why the fuck have you got a wooden ruler?" Bunny frowns, and an adorable pout crosses his lips. He's jealous. I want to do a little jig. For once the green eyed monster has wrapped around Bunny.

Instead, I settle for slapping myself on the ass with it and raising an eyebrow at him.

"What do you think?"

* * *

**A/N Those lovely ladies from The Lemonade Stand have nominated The Art of Getting Fluffed for Fic of the Week. If you can spare the time, we'd love your vote; www dot tehlemonadestand dot net.  
**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing. We'd like to give you all a voucher for a foot long sub of your choice. Preferably a meat feast.  
**

**A big shout out to A-JASPER-FOR-ME and Grnidgrl for their hard work. Thank you ladies.  
**

**Finally, we've written an outtake from Bunny, Fluff and Alsper's trip to Las Vegas for the Fandom for Oklahoma compilation. There are lots of amazing submissions in there.  
**

**Thanks for reading and have a great week!**

**Love, Sparrow and Choc x**


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29 - On Golden Blonde**

**EPOV**

I'm lying on her bed, essence of Bella assaulting my senses, wafting up from her damp skin. I lick my lips as I watch her fingers curling around the wooden ruler, the sound of it slapping against her flesh sparking something I'm trying to hide.

I swallow.

Hard.

"Let me get this straight. You want to measure my dick?" I let a smirk wash over my lips. It isn't the first time it's been measured, though I imagine everything will feel like the first time with this girl.

"Yes." Her grin is big. She's enjoying this.

I lay back with my hands beneath my head, our mutual smugness amusing me. "You want to take my cock out of my shorts, rub it until I'm good and hard, then measure it to see whether or not I'm lying?"

Her grin slips a little. She still manages to nod.

"Then what?" I can't resist thrusting my hips a little.

"Erm …" Her forehead creases, adorable frown lines etching into her skin. I want to trace them with my tongue. "... I don't know."

I know. I definitely know.

I'm almost certain once I feel her fingers wrap around my cock, I'm not going to want her to let go.

"What do you usually do with a foot long Meat Feast?" I bite my lip trying not to laugh. Expressions flit across her features as she tries to work out whether I'm teasing or not.

"I don't like Meat Feasts." Her voice is a whisper. "I prefer turkey."

"You like to gobble?" I raise an eyebrow. A red blush steals across her face, I'm not sure whether it's from excitement or fear.

"I only ever eat six inches."

I shrug. "Works for me."

"You want me to …? Oh, God, I've left you hanging haven't I? Does that mean all the blood has rushed to your—" She can't bring herself to say the word. It makes me want her even more. "You must be so light-headed. Let me help you with that."

She reaches her hand out, only inches away from my shorts. My cock is straining against the thin fabric, tenting it away from my body.

I grab her wrist to stop her progress. "Fluff, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to. I've waited this long, I can wait a bit longer."

I'm totally lying. I'm dying here. I read somewhere 'lack of oxygen to the brain' was the eventual cause of all deaths. In that case, I've been pretty much dead for the last two weeks.

Well, parts of me have.

"But your balls, they must be so …" She wrinkles her nose. "You know."

"Painful? Distended? Bluer than Jasper's mascara?"

She starts to giggle. "Something like that."

I'm torn. I'm fucking ripped in two. There's part of me—a rather large part—that wants to just let her dip her hand in and pull me off until I erupt like Mount Vesuvius. If you'd asked me a few weeks ago whether I'd prevaricate this long, I would have laughed in your face.

But this is Fluff. She's the one good thing in my life and I don't want to muck this up. She's already told me she needs reassurance, and I'm determined to give her what she wants.

Often.

On multiple occasions.

"Let's just wait, okay?" Jesus, kill me now. I'm turning into a fucking hero from a chick lit book. "I'll go and get tested, and then we can work things out when we're in Vegas. I don't want to pressure you into anything you don't want to do." My mind starts to work overtime. I want to show her a good time in Vegas, maybe take her out on a date. I want to let her know this isn't just about her body.

On top of mine.

Soft and warm.

Oh, God.

Her face relaxes, and I realize she's relieved. It wounds me a little, but I try not to show it. I want her to feel relaxed and ready. There's no way I'm going to scare her away.

"Okay." A brilliant smile lights up her face, and I can't help but feel warm inside. I never realized how nice it was to be nice.

I should try it more often.

. . . . .

Mom flies out two days later, the hound from Hell grinning when he knows he'll have her to himself again. Charlie Swan turns up to drive her to the airport, despite my many offers, and I make a note to wash my eyes out with Lysol when I see his hand pat her ass as he helps her into his car.

And then there were two.

Fluff has lessons in the afternoon, so we spend the morning sorting out her apartment, cleaning and doing the laundry. I can't work out why I'm feeling so down, because this was only ever meant to be temporary, and my place is a hundred times nicer than hers, even with added fire damage.

But this pokey, two-bed apartment in a slightly worse part of town has one huge advantage over mine, something not even a newly cleaned hot-tub can compensate for.

Fluff lives here.

After a quick lunch, I drop her at college, then head toward the clinic. I've decided to do this properly, to start living my life like a civilian, so rather than use the doc from the studio, I head for the STD clinic at our local hospital.

I'm a little late by the time I arrive, and feeling a bit flustered. I wander the winding hallways, past clinics for broken bones and plastic surgery. The lemony-fresh smell of the cleaner reminds me a little too much of the studio after filming, and it makes my stomach turn.

"Can I help you?" A petite blonde nurse stops me in the corridor, placing her warm hand on my bicep. I bite my lip, not wanting to admit I'm lost, and definitely not wanting to tell her what I'm looking for.

I do have some standards.

"Yeah, I need to find … a … friend of mine." I run my hand through my hair, frowning when she starts to push her chest out. She licks her already-glowing lips and I try to shrink back. All I can think of is a documentary I once saw on a Praying Mantis. Right now, I'm the one who feels like praying. To God.

"Do you know which clinic your … friend … is attending?" She bats her blonde eyelashes at me.

I half cough the words into my hand. "The STD clinic."

"STD?" She steps back from me. I swallow a laugh at the look of disgust on her face.

"Yeah, apparently it's really bad. The worst they've ever seen." I'm getting into it now. Her nose curls up and she gestures her hand toward the right.

"Three doors down. I must go, I'm late." She turns on her heel and runs. I suppress a grin then head for the clinic, wanting to get this thing over and done with.

Ten minutes later, I'm in a consulting room, speaking with Nurse Cope, who is taking down my history.

"Please don't be afraid to be honest with me," she's saying, with an Irish lilt to her voice. Her kind smile is reassuring. With her helmet of grey hair and full, open face, she reminds me a little of a grandma. "I've seen everything and heard everything. Nothing surprises me anymore."

"Okay." My voice comes out as a squeak. I don't want to be the one to ruin her day.

"Let's start with a nice easy question. What's your occupation?" She glances up and me and lifts her pen to the clipboard. She's expecting a fast answer …

… but she isn't getting one.

"Ummm …" I chew on my lip. My mind goes completely blank. As in empty. Nothing there. Nada.

"What's your job?" She rephrases, clearly thinking I'm an idiot.

"I'm an ex- …" My eyes are popping out of my head with the strain. "P … p … p …" I get stuck on the 'P'. I just can't say it.

"An ex-puh," she says encouragingly.

"An ex-p … p … priest." I finally spit out.

"An ex-priest?" Her eyebrow almost meets her hairline with surprise.

I nod dumbly.

"Okay, Father. Just a few more questions." Her face is starting to heat up. I can see thoughts flashing behind her eyes like disco lights. She must be wondering why the hell an ex-priest needs testing for STDs.

I try to think of how a priest in an STD clinic would act. I channel my inner Ed Norton. "Go ahead, my child."

"Okay, um, Father, I'm so sorry, but I have to ask this. Can you tell me when you were last sexually active?" She actually looks distressed. I lay a gentle arm on her shoulder and flash her a reassuring smile. I try to make it more regal than rampant.

"Can you define 'sexually active'?" Because I was pretty damn active with Fluff last night.

Nurse Cope starts fiddling with her pen. "When was the last time you had sex?" Her voice is a whisper.

I screw up my face to think. I haven't had sex with anybody since I first met Fluff. I wrack my brain to work out how long we've known each other, then almost jump out of the chair when I realize the answer.

Have I really only known her for such a short amount of time?

"Just over two weeks."

Nurse Cope's shocked expression seems to have become permanent. She hurriedly scribbles on her form, unable to meet my eyes.

"And how many partners have you had?"

"How long have you got?"

This time she meets my stare. Her baby-blue eyes are horrified, and her fingers start to twitch. I wonder if she's desperate to make the sign of the cross.

"More than five?" She squeaks out the question.

I nod.

"Ten?"

I nod again.

"Mother of God," she mutters. "More than twenty?"

I pat her shoulder again. This time she flinches away from me. "Shall we start at three figures?"

She speeds through the rest of the questions like an addict on crack, desperate to get out of the consulting room. I answer as truthfully as I can, each word another nail in the coffin she desperately wants me to climb into. She literally stabs me with a needle in her eagerness to take blood, the pain causing tears to sting at my eyes. Then she hands me a pot for a urine sample, directing me toward the bathroom, explaining how much is required.

When I come back and hand her the sample, she places it on a tray and scribbles some information. I feel very satisfied, happy that I've done the tests, like I'm one step further along the line toward normality.

"Is that it?" My smile drops when I glance at Nurse Cope, and she looks like she's about to cry.

"No." Her voice comes out as a wail. I keep my hands by my side. Trying to comfort her a third time with a priestly hand may be too much to take.

"No?" I question, wondering what else I need to provide.

"I'm afraid there's one more test we need to do."

I frown, my brows pulling down as I try to work it out. I'm pretty sure I've never had to provide a mouth swab or a semen sample. I can't work out what other fluids there can be.

"One more test?" I clarify. "What sort of test?"

"I'm so sorry, Father." Her eyes drop to the floor. "I'm going to have to examine your penis."

* * *

**A/N ****A-JASPER-FOR-ME betas and Grnidgrl pre-reads. They deserve a medal for putting up with us.**

******Thank you to all of you who voted for Fluffed for fic of the week on The Lemonade Stand. We won - and were so excited you can't even imagine. Imagine Alsper on speed and you're probably getting close.**

******The outtake for Fandom For Oklahoma has now been released. It fits in at the end of this chapter and describes the fantastic four's (Fluff, Bunny and Alsper) journey to Vegas. For those that haven't had a chance to read, we will post it as an outtake here in September. **

**Thank you all for reading. Your reviews make our day (and put big smiles on our faces.) We'd like to give you all ten minutes each in the clinic with Father Cullen. He has a lot to confess.**

**Have a great week, we heart you lots.**

**Love, Sparrow and Choc x**


	30. Chapter 30

**AN: The outtake we wrote for the Fandom for Oklahoma slots in between this chapter and the last. It revolves around their road trip to Vegas, which was quite eventful (a huge HUGE understatement ;) We will be able to post the outtake at the beginning of September for those of you who haven't yet had chance to read it!**

* * *

**Chapter 30 - E.T The Extra Testicle**

**BPOV**

* * *

We pull up outside the towering edifice of the Bellagio, its fountains spurting a magnificent display into the inky glow of the Las Vegas skyline.

Jasper throws himself out of the car and runs up the steps of the hotel, falling to his knees.

"What is he doing?" I turn to ask Alice who's struggling to drag a black polka dot bag out of the trunk of the car while Bunny talks to the valet.

"I think he's kissing the hotel." She shrugs and hands over the bag. "Is this yours?"

It's so heavy; it nearly takes my arm off. "Nope. Bunny's."

She quirks an eyebrow despite the fact I know Alsper have matching luggage with the obligatory ribbon on the handle, just in case you lose them in transit. Alice's is navy. Jasper's is rainbow.

We join a still supplicated Jasper at the entrance to the hotel, his lips perilously close to a lump of something yellow that could be gum or something less sanitary. "You know there are all sorts of germs down there."

"I don't care. I'm just happy to be alive and to see the bright, shining lights of Vegas." He bends to continue his ministrations when Bunny grabs the collar of his shirt and hoists him onto his feet.

"Come on. Let's check in before you get an Ascaris worm infection or something."

"A what?" A question we all ask at once.

Bunny waves his hand in the air and ushers us into the hotel's rotating doors. "Before I was a porn star, I wanted to be a doctor."

"You did?" I stop, and the doors slam into us, cutting out so we're all trapped in the small segment. It shudders and start stops as none of us make a move, seemingly too shocked by Bunny's revelation.

"Can we get out of here please? It's claustrophobic." Alice pushes the door which doesn't budge.

Jasper pipes up, folding his arms and glaring at Bunny. "You never told me that. I thought we were friends."

"Jesus Christ. I need to work on my tone. I was kidding. I saw it on the Discovery Channel." Bunny shakes his head, and now all is right with the world again, we manage to get through into the hotel lobby. "But Jasper, seriously, you do not want that shit, so no licking unsanitary things. Got it?"

"I got it." Jasper holds his hands up and waltzes away up to the reception desk, his head tipped back to look at the colourful ceiling curved over our heads.

"It's beautiful in here." I'm craning my own neck to view the extravagance of the hotel. My eyes can't open wide enough to take it all in.

"You're beautiful." Bunny bites into the soft muscle on the top of my shoulder, sucking before leaving a kiss he drags up behind my ear. My legs want to give way, but the marble floor looks painful so I grab onto his polka-dot bag for balance, wrapping my other hand around his neck.

"Such a smooth talker." I turn to face him, standing on to my tiptoes to reach his lips.

"You like a talker, huh?"

"I like a _dirty_ talker." He has the innate ability to make me forget where I am.

"Oh really? I'll see what I can do."

"Is that a promise?"

He dips down and whispers in my ear, his eyes darting to make sure no one is in earshot. "I promise when I get you alone, Fluff, you'll be screaming my name louder than you've ever screamed before."

Goosebumps prickle across my body, and my face heats up. I'm sure the elderly couple with matching socks and sandals can hear us. The man is fiddling with his fishing hat far too much.

"Louder than when I was on the roller coaster at Six Flags?"

"I don't know how much you screamed then, but I'm guessing yes."

"It's the highest and fastest in the world so I think I was pretty loud." I smirk at him. He's so easy to rile up.

"Yeah, but you've not been on the Bunny Blaster. It's the longest, hardest, and fastest roller coaster in the world." I can almost see the design plans coming together in his head.

"And when will I get a go on this record breaking ride of a lifetime?"

"Fluff, you have a season pass." He winks and walks over to the petite receptionist, handing her his booking documents, and leaving me wondering when his theme park is next open and whether I'll get whiplash if I stay on his ride forever.

.

We're waiting for the elevator to arrive when I hear a high-pitched screech behind me.

"Oh my god, Bella Swan. Is that you?"

I turn around to see Cher weaving her way towards me through a crowd who are all staring open-mouthed at the scene unfolding in front of them.

I clamp my hand over my mouth when I realize what exactly I'm looking at. "What the hell have you done to your hair?"

Jai fluffs out the tight curls and does a twirl, his leather jacket flaring out around him. "It's a semi-permanent. You like?"

"Erm …" I'm actually lost for words but eternally grateful he's foregone the crotch cutting body suit.

"I like it." Bunny says, shaking Jai's hand. The manly gesture sits awkwardly with Cher circa 1989.

"Thank you, Bunny. What are you doing in Vegas?" Jai narrows his eyes at me.

"We've come for the AVNs." I whisper the acronym.

"What's that? The Accountants in Vegas Network? Marcus is here somewhere." Jai looks around the busy lobby, coming up empty.

"Not quite. It's the Adult Video News Awards. Bunny has been nominated in a few categories."

"Lots actually." Bunny interjects and earns himself an elbow in the ribs.

"No way. Congratulations. When's the ceremony?" Jai turns and waves erratically at a man with a wig that makes him look like the missing part to a Lego Rodeo, and as he draws closer I see it's Marcus.

"Look who I've found." Jai pulls Marcus to his side and makes quick introductions to Alice and Jasper, who seem to have lost their tongues at the appearance of Sonny and Cher.

"What are _you_ doing here?" If I were a betting woman, I would gamble all my possessions on his answer.

"We've come to see Cher of course. She's on tonight at the Colosseum."

"Of course." I would have won big on that bet. "Well, we should go out for drink or something. Are you here tomorrow night?"

"Yes. We're going to spend our pennies in the casinos tomorrow once we've turned back time." Jai winks, and I can't help the groan that falls from my mouth.

"I'll call you then." I give him a hug, half choking on the curls and hairspray that end up in my mouth.

"You do that, missy. Good luck tomorrow, Bunny."

Jai disappears in a whirlwind as fast as the one he appeared in.

.

We find our way to the suite. Yes, suite. It's fucking ridiculous. After bouncing on the gigantic beds for ten minutes and emptying the contents on the well-stocked mini bar and divvying it up between us, Bunny decides we should get ready for the evening. We don't have plans as such. Well, I have plans for what will happen once we get home, nakedness is heavily involved, but the interim is a little sketchy.

Bunny leans on the doorway of the bathroom in a classic catalogue pose. "I'm going to jump in the shower. You want to join me?"

I finish chewing on the Pringles I've stuffed in my mouth. Those little packets are too irresistible. "I would, but then we'll never get out. So you go, and I'll jump in after."

He pouts a little before he disappears into a marble bathroom the size of Texas. I spend the next ten minutes looking in every drawer, eating and drinking everything I can get my hands on and taking photos of the incredible view from our balcony. I'm giddy about the miniature Eiffel Tower of the hotel opposite. I eventually crash on the super king-sized bed, daydreaming about weekends in Paris with Bunny, walking hand in hand down the Champs Elysees eating croissants and drinking wine, when he emerges in a cloud of steam.

"That shower is amazing. I need one fitted in my house. It has about fifteen settings and ten sprays that massage your body." He's so excited it almost distracts me from his half-naked body. Almost.

Water is dripping from his darkened hair and running in trails down his torso to the white towel that's slung low around his hips. My mouth is dry at the sight, but as he passes in front of the lamp on the bedside table, I almost choke on my laugh.

"Oh, my God. What did you do?"

He pauses and looks over at me, his face a picture of innocence. "What are you talking about?"

His body ought to grace the cover of Men's Health on a weekly basis, and the fact his skin is slick with water from the shower would kill the average woman, but as his muscles flex and his body moves in the light, his skin glints like a diamond.

"Have you been using my body lotion?"

He opens his mouth to deny it, but the evidence is in the sweet strawberry smell in the air and the glitter that's covering his whole body. "Well, I forgot mine."

I almost fall off the bed with laughter, but I manage to hold my stomach and wheeze out my observation. "Bunny, my lotion is full of glitter. Oh my God, you're sparkling."

"I am not." He holds his arm up to the light, turning it so his skin glints. "Jesus Christ, should I get back in the shower?"

I managed to wipe away the tears of laughter pouring down my face. "No, just rub it with the towel most of it will come off."

He huffs and whips his towel from around his waist, leaving himself totally naked.

I'm stunned into silence, squeezing my thighs together to create some friction as I watch him unashamedly rub the glitter off his body and pull on a pair of black boxers.

"You've gone quiet." His crooked smirk tells me he knows exactly why I'm distracted.

"Just appreciating the view."

He grabs onto my ankle and pulls me across the bed to where he can lean over me, his warm and still slightly glittery skin pressing down against me. "When do I get to enjoy the view?"

I run my fingers over the muscles in his shoulders, which undulate as he tenses them to hold himself above me. "There's an incredible view from the balcony. You should go and take a look."

"I'm more than happy to take in the view from here." He dips his head to capture my lips, and I feel him, hot and hard against my thigh. I swallow back the curse at his size. Whether he's twelve inches or not, he's something to be reckoned with.

The grime of our road trip is still sticky on my skin, and there's no way I'm letting him see me naked until I've spent at least an hour primping, shaving, conditioning, moisturizing and any other pampering necessary, so I return his kiss, but then wriggle out from under him, racing to the bathroom before he can catch me.

"Nice ass," he shouts as I start to pull the door shut. I roll my eyes, laughing at his absurdity.

"Can you drag your mind out of the gutter for at least a few hours?"

"Only a few?" The hope shining in his face makes me want to run and jump on him.

"I want it back down there when we get home later." I send him back one of his ubiquitous winks and shut the door behind me.

It isn't enough to muffle his loud groan.

* * *

**A/N ****Thank You so much for reading, we love each and every one of your reviews. You all get an hour to massage Bunny with sparkly body lotion.**

**A-JASPER-FOR-ME and Grnidgrl polish our fluff until it shines. Thank you, Ladies**

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**Come chat with us on facebook or twitter - our links are on our profile page.**

**Love Sparrow & Choc xox**


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31 - Inspect Her Gadget**

**EPOV**

* * *

She's been in the bathroom for hours. Every now and again I hear a little movement or see yet more steam billowing from under the door. But there's no sign of Fluff, and I can't help worrying she's having second thoughts.

When she does come out, it's more than worth the agonizing wait.

She's wearing a short, floaty black dress showing off her glowing, bronzed legs and perfectly toned arms. I wonder idly whether the tone comes from moulding pieces of clay. Then I wonder more about her ability to mould other things ...

"You look amazing." My voice sounds funny. I swallow my heart and try again. "Completely gorgeous."

She spins around, little black dress floating in the air, revealing her round ass cheeks and a glimpse of golden thong.

I immediately perk up.

We make our way down to the lobby. The elevator is full of porn stars and gropies, so named for their wandering hands. My eyes bulge when I feel a hand groping between my thighs.

"Is that you?" I whisper in Fluff's ear. She whips her head around to stare at me quizzically.

"Is what me?" she hisses back.

I gingerly remove the hand from my junk, praying she never finds out.

Thankfully the elevator reaches the lobby within a minute. I watch as the people file out, wondering which man, woman or transvestite was rolling my pin.

Some things are best left a mystery.

The exhibition stands have spilled out of the conference hall and into the reception area, every movie and toy I've ever heard of being demonstrated for paying customers. I blush when I see a full-size cut-out of me in the corner surrounded by scantily clad women.

Fluff frowns. "They're touching your c. o. c. k." Her expression tells me she isn't amused.

I shrug. "That's not me, just a piece of paper." Making a little sign of the cross with the hand she can't see, I pray we're going to get to the restaurant alive.

We're almost out the door when she stops in front of an exhibit. Her face lights up, cheeks plump and eyes giddy.

"Oh my God Edward, I've always wanted a hobby horse."

She points at the black leather contraption in the middle of the stand currently being straddled by a girl wearing a tiny skirt and very little else.

I try to pull her away. "You don't want to look at that."

Fluff remains resolutely still in front of the stand. "Why not?" She points at the straddling girl. "She looks like she's having a fabulous time."

She's right; the girl is rocking her body against the leather saddle, her head flung back as little puffs of air escape her mouth. I feel my face get hotter as I try to work out how the fuck I'm going to explain this to her.

"That's not a hobby horse," I say through gritted teeth.

She looks confused. "But she's sitting on a saddle and riding it."

Oh fuck. I can see there's no way out of this but to explain. "That's not all she's riding."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that's a Sybian. A sex machine. She's impaled on a ..." I can't bring myself to say it. "She's riding something that makes her feel very good."

Bella starts to laugh. "You can't say the word 'dildo'?"

I shake my head.

"I don't believe this. Edward 'The Battery' Cullen, king of porn and dirty talking, can't even say she's fucking a rubber cock."

I literally start to blush. A moment later all heads turn to stare at me, and I realize Fluff has outted us to every porn aficionado in the hotel. Within minutes I'm surrounded, being begged for autographs, touched-up by girls and having panties stuffed in my pockets.

Fluff steps out of the throng and I watch as she stands near the exit, a strange expression on her face. I can feel her pulling away from me, and I don't like it one little bit.

We arrive at the restaurant half an hour after our booking. It takes some sweet-talking, name-dropping and a palmed Benjamin to get us our table back. Fluff remains silent, her lips pursed, her arms folded firmly in front of her chest.

I go through the 'good boyfriends' rulebook in my brain, choosing the most inane way to start a conversation. "Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?"

"Not really." I take a huge gulp of beer. This date isn't turning out exactly as I planned.

She picks some imaginary lint from the tablecloth. "I wasn't expecting it to be like this."

I lean toward her. "Like what?"

"All ... you know ... porny."

I fail to swallow my laugh.

"What did you expect a porn expo to be like?" I genuinely want to know. "I mean, this isn't Comic Con."

"I don't know." She bites her lip, looking like she's about to cry. "Just not like this."

I can see the tears pooling in her eyes. We're sitting in the most expensive restaurant on the strip, surrounded by fine wine and elegant food, but fuck it, my girl needs me.

I stand up and walk around the table, pulling her into my arms. She buries her head into my shoulder, muffling her sob, and I stroke her tumbling curls.

"Babe, you know this isn't me. Not anymore." I kiss her head, willing her to understand. "After this weekend, I'm all done. No more porn, no more 'Battery'. I'm just Edward and you're my girlfriend, okay?"

"You'll always be 'The Battery' to them." She looks up at me, eyes glistening. "You can't ever escape it. Your movies will always be out there."

She's right. I know she's right. I feel like a shit of the highest order, dragging her down to my level. But I can't let her go.

"We'll go away, someplace where nobody's heard of porn, or me, and we'll make a new life."

Fluff shakes her head. "There's no escape. We'll be at our kids' parents' evening and the teacher will ask where she's seen you before and you'll be all 'oh fuck she's been watching porn' and I'll be all 'oh fuck, she's seen my husband's cock'."

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. My heart hammers against my ribcage and my brain practically explodes. She's just come out and told me she's imagining us being married with kids someday.

I'm not sure what surprises me more; the fact she can imagine this, or the fact that I fucking love the idea.

She stares at me, horror slowly creeping over her face.

"Did I just talk about us being married with kids?" Her voice is a whisper.

I nod smugly.

"Damn." She shakes her head. "I swear I've got a bad case of verbal diarrhea. I didn't mean it or anything."

She tries to pull away, but I hold her tighter. "I like it." I smile at her.

Her frown deepens. "You do?"

"I do." I want to laugh at her expression. "I want it all with you, beautiful girl. I want the wedding, the kids, the white picket fence. I want the full shebang."

Her hand reaches out to cup my jaw. She runs her fingers over my stubble, her eyes widening as I dip my head to kiss her.

She grinds her lips against mine, our tongues sliding for a fleeting moment before she pulls back. Placing both palms on my chest, she grins wickedly at me. "In that case, take me home or lose me forever, Bunny."

When we make it back to the suite, she turns on some music and pulls a bottle of champagne out of the fridge. Bon Iver pours out of the speakers, and Fluff starts to sing along to "Skinny Love".

Except she changes it to 'Bunny Love'.

It works for me.

She pours the champagne, sashaying back toward me, her eyes firmly fixed on my lips. I stand as still as I can, aware my cock is pointing straight at the ceiling, telling myself to let her take the lead.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Miss Swan?" I do a mean impression of Dustin Hoffman, though clearly I'm way better looking than him.

She puts the glasses of champagne on a side table. "Do you want me to seduce you?"

I swear I come a little. I nod my head rapidly.

"In that case ..." She reaches out a finger and runs it from my chest to my groin. I start to dance in my pants. "... Yes. I'm trying to seduce you."

I manage to croak, "Seduce away."

Placing both palms flat on my chest, she pushes me back until my legs hit the cool leather of the sectional sofa. I sit down, watching as she lifts her pretty black dress over her head.

Her alabaster-pale skin is accentuated by dark wine lingerie, her nipples hard and ripe as they push at the fabric of her bra. My cock is practically forcing its way through the zipper of my dress pants, desperate as I am to get close to her.

"Come here." My voice is as rough as sandpaper.

"Patience, Mr Cullen." She runs her hands up her stomach, perfect fingers caressing her own skin. When she reaches her breasts she cups them, and my fingers flex with the need to feel them.

"Baby ..." I reach for her and she steps back.

"You can look, but you can't touch," she teases. "Not until I say you can."

I squirm on the sofa, desperate for her on top of me. "I need you, sweetheart."

"I need you too." She reaches behind her to unclasp her bra, unintentionally pushing her chest forward. She's so close I can practically taste her. "_All_ of you."

Her bra falls to the floor, revealing pale, pale breasts and painfully pink areolas. I mumble under my breath. "You've got me."

She has. Fluff owns me, body and soul. I'm like the clay she moulds every day; putty in her hands, desperate to be touched, manipulated, moulded into something new.

"Take off your shirt." The tone of her voice is enough to make me follow her command. I unfasten the buttons deftly, shrugging out of my white cotton shirt, placing it on the sofa next to me.

She stares at me unabashedly, her eyes raking over my body. I like the way her chest hitches as she watches.

Fluff licks her lips slowly. "You have the most beautiful body."

I arch an eyebrow. "Likewise."

She kneels on the floor in front of my legs, leaning forward to unzip my pants. My cock escapes like a freed circus lion, and she leans backward to avoid getting hit.

"You're a little jumpy," I observe. The corner of my lip tugs up.

Her finger runs a line of fire down my shorts. "You're a little horny."

I clear my throat. "Enough of the little."

She tugs at my pants and I wriggle my hips, letting her pull them down to my ankles. I kick off my shoes and she pulls my socks along with my pants.

"You're beautiful." Her hands run from my ankles to my thighs. I feel myself tense at her touch, wondering if I'll be able to hold it in long enough for her to even give things a go.

"You've got that wrong. You're the beautiful one." I have to fist my hands not to touch her. It's like exquisite torture, having her so close, smelling her sweet aroma of cherries and vanilla. I'm not sure how much more I can take.

Suddenly she climbs on me, straddling my legs until her panties brush against my shorts. With such flimsy material between my dick and the homeland, I can't help but thrust my hips.

Fluff places a soft hand on my thigh. "Let's do this my way."

I nod in agreement. I want to give her this, the ability to pace herself, the knowledge that she can pull back at any time. We might have had the all-clear from the clinic and the safe sex talk, but I figure at this point, a dose of something nasty is the least of our worries.

I'm more concerned about broken hearts.

I stare into the dark pools of her eyes and my chest seems congested, like there isn't enough room in there. If a heart had any nerve endings, I swear mine would be aching right now.

She shimmies out of her panties, and I watch as she pushes the scrap of lace down her sweet thighs. I resist the urge to grab them, to inhale deeply, to smell the essence of Bella Swan.

Though I do make a note to steal them for later.

My boxers come off next. She stares at my cock like it's the Colossus of Rhodes, or some other wonder of the earth. I start to feel a little self-conscious.

"I said we'd give this a try, okay?" She glances up at me. "If it gets too hard …"

I cough back a laugh, wiggling my eyebrows. "It's already too hard."

Fluff starts to giggle, her whole body rocking. I pull her toward me, finally happy to be able to touch her, holding her tightly against me.

"I fucking love you, Bella Swan. We'll take this one step at a time."

"One inch at a time." She can barely talk, she's laughing so much. It makes me happy that we can enjoy this together. It's not just about her taking me inside, or us getting each other off. It's about being together, being happy. I want this a lot.

Her fingers wrap around my cock and all laughter fades. I close my eyes as she moves her hand up and down, the rhythm causing me to expand further. I lean down and drag my lips across her neck, my tongue tasting her skin. I can feel her nipples hard against my chest.

"Can I touch you?"

She nods rapidly. I don't ask twice. Instead I run my palms down her shoulders, my fingers barely brushing against her breasts. She yelps and I do it again, loving the way she's so responsive.

I torture her breasts for long minutes; touching, pinching, sucking and biting. They're a perfect size, fitting easily in my palms, my thumb spanning each one as I tease her nipples.

She throws her head back and I take the opportunity to feather my fingers down farther, making her laugh when I touch her sensitive hip bone. She wriggles hard as I tickle her, and I can feel how excited she is when she grinds against me.

"Fuck, you're wet." I can't resist touching her. I dip a finger softly between her thighs, barely brushing her skin as I gather up her moisture. "I can't wait to feel you around my cock."

My thumb glances across her clit, her eyes widening as I circle it softly. I press harder, wanting to see her fall apart on my lap.

"Edward …" I like hearing her say my real name while I'm taking her higher. I reward her with a finger, pushing it inside her, circling it as I continue to rotate my thumb.

"You like that, sweetheart?" I whisper in her ear, my breath deliberately tickling her skin. "You like feeling my fingers inside of your sweet pussy. You're so tight, baby, so fucking tight. When I push inside you, you're going to see stars."

She tenses on top of me, and I feel a grin forming on my lips. But before she can fall over the edge, she grabs my wrist, stopping my movements, pulling me out of her warmth.

"Not yet, Edward. I want to feel you inside me first."

My cock hardens at her words. I try to tell myself to calm down, to stop growing so fucking big. This is going to be hard enough as it is.

Literally.

"Okay." Because I'm not stupid enough to disagree. "How do you want to do this thing?"

She gulps hard, staring down at me. "I'll take control. Just … let me go at my own pace, okay?"

"Of course." I capture her lips with mine. "I just want to make you feel good."

Her eyes glisten as I speak. "You do, Bunny. You do make me feel good."

She knees up on the sofa, moving her groin until she's lined up with mine. Using one hand to steady herself against my chest, the other reaches down to grab me, lining me up against her.

"Are you ready?" She asks, trepidation coloring her face.

I nod. "Are you?"

She doesn't answer, just moves down until my tip is inside her, the tightness leaving me no room to maneuver. I moan long and loud as she slides down until her ass meets my hips and her wide eyes meet my own. Little pants of air escape her lips, like she's trying to get used to the feeling, and I cup my hands around her behind to steady her, to form the connection between us. Her bottom lip drops open and a bead of perspiration runs down her temple.

I catch her eyes, trying to tell her just what this means to me. Because she's everything I ever wanted; the funniest, cutest, kindest, prettiest girl I've ever met.

And all mine.

She's still sitting on me, her body statued as she gets used to my invasion. I remain still as well, not wanting to pressure her, not wanting to do anything that could hurt my girl.

"You okay?" I whisper, and she smiles at me, the brightest, goofiest smile I've ever seen.

"I'm fucking great," she replies, and I let her rise up on me, her ass muscles tensing beneath my touch.

"Yes, you are."

* * *

**A/N FIC REC! Irrevocable Trust by shellyduran. **

_The Cullen children are adult trust fund babies; dependent on company CFO Bella Swan to keep them in the lifestyle to which they are accustomed. Prodigal son Edward returns to claim his rightful place as the next CEO just as the Cullens' world is set to crumble. Can he trust Bella?_

**All our love and thanks to ****A-JASPER-FOR-ME and Grnidgrl for their hard work on this chapter. We love you big time.**

**Thank you for reading and for your kind reviews. We want to send you on an all-expenses-paid trip to Vegas. With Bunny. Or Fluff. Or a Sybian (pls google). The choice is yours ...**

**Come chat with us on facebook or twitter - our links are on our profile page.**

**Love Sparrow & Choc xox**


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32 – Beer and Boning in Las Vegas**

**BPOV**

* * *

I wake to a sliver of early morning sunlight slicing through the room, highlighting a glitter of dust hanging in the air. A heavy arm rests across my waist, a warm chest is pressing into my back. Bunny hasn't stirred nor has he let go of me all night.

_"I fucking love you, Bella Swan" _has been on a loop in my head all night, making my heart skip and my smile a permanent feature. He loves me. I think I'm in love with him too. Who am I kidding I am. I really am.

He's managed to get under my skin in the short time I've known him, and I need him to stay there. Though he's not getting away with his first declaration of love being mid sex . Any woman knows a man will promise the world when he's buried deep inside you, and Bunny was very deep indeed.

The delicious ache between my legs is a welcome reminder of our first time, and second, and very lazy and slow third. A heated coil unfurls low in my belly when I remember the feel of him, stretching me more than I ever thought possible. It's a miracle really.

Despite my worries, he fit perfectly. I don't linger on what that might say about me. He'd bandied the word "tight" around last night so I'm clinging onto that. Memories of the rasping sound of his voice thick with sex and exertion automatically flutters my muscles where I want him, where I need him, and I roll over to watch him sleep.

His hair is a complete clusterfuck, which I'd like to take some responsibility for, and his lips are parted slightly, enticing me to lean forward to feel them against mine. He peels open one eye, watching me as his lips curl into a lazy smile.

"Morning, beautiful."

"Morning." I let him pull me closer, lifting my leg and wrapping it with his.

"How are you feeling this morning? Refreshed?" A smirk tilts his mouth.

"Yes, I had the best night of sleep I've had in a long while."

"You did?"

"I did. This bed is so comfy."

"Only the bed?"

"Well, the pillows are feathered so they're a little slice of heaven."

"And you're not sore?"

"Nope. I think this is one of those special orthopaedic beds or something. You know the one that supports your back? It might even be a memory foam mattress."

"Mmm hmmm." He buries his head into my chest, pressing a kiss on the soft skin between my breasts. "And hows the rest of your body?"

I gasp as his tongue circles the rosy skin of my nipple, sucking its peak into his mouth and releasing it with a pop. "It's perfect."

His fingers slide over the curve of my hips down to my knee, pulling it up higher onto his hip and opening me up to him. He continues his ministrations, dancing his fingertips along the inside of my leg until I'm quivering in anticipation. I reach out to grasp him, long and hard, tensing my hand as I move it slowly over his smooth skin. His eyes roll back in his head as he groans out my name.

Bunny brushes his knuckles over the hot wet heat that's built between my legs. "And how about here? Are you sore here?"

I whimper an unintelligible response and buck my hips against his hand, shaking my head so he continues. Pulling me even closer, I feel him at my entrance and automatically shift to allow him to push slowly in.

"Fuck, Edward. You feel so good."

He captures my lips and kisses me long and slow as he flexes his hips, pushing deeper and deeper until my muscles clench around him, the ridges of his cock sliding achingly slow against every sensitive nerve inside me. He begins a slow rock, keeping in time with his languorous kisses, and I claw at his back to get closer, to feel him pressed up against me.

It only takes what feels like seconds before I'm screaming his name, burying my face into his chest as shudders wrack my body, his own release accompanied by whispered litanies while his arms hold me flush against him.

"I think we need to do this more often. You're … I can't even." Intelligent sentences are beyond me while my breathing returns to normal and my body gets used to the sensation of feeling empty without Bunny as he pulls out.

"You think I'm gonna let you out of my bed, Fluff? You've got another thing coming."

"Well, we've got the AVNs later." I try not to grimace at the thought of the awards ceremony. Judging by my experience, he's going to win every award going.

"Ah, who cares about that? I only want you." He nuzzles his face into my neck. "Let's just stay here. Jasper can pick up the awards for me. He's always wanted to do that."

"Awards ... plural?" I nip his side so he wriggles out of my grasp looking like a puppy you've just kicked, his lips pouting.

"I'm up for five."

I roll my eyes at him. "If I was awarding you, you'd win everything."

This cheers him up.

"I would?"

I laugh at him, sitting up and scooting to the edge of the bed before he can grab me and pull me back. "Yes. Best sex. Best leading male. Best lines. Best cock ... Is there an award for that?"

Bunny covers his face with a pillow, his body shaking with laughter.

"Well even if there isn't, there should be, and you would definitely win."

He lifts his head, giving me a smile that dimples his cheeks. He's as easy to please as a kid in a sweet shop.

I point at him and wiggle my finger at his crotch which is barely covered by the sheet, a golden trail of hairs running up to his navel almost makes me jump back in bed so I can trace it with my tongue. "There's only one judge for that award though."

"Gotcha."

"Good or I might go Lorena Bobbit on you."

He gasps and cups his appendage, fear flashing in his eyes, and I laugh finding the plush carpet under my feet and standing up.

I immediately fall on the floor with a yelp, the muscles of my thighs and other darker places giving up. "Holy shit!"

"Fluff, are you okay?" He scrambles to the edge of the bed and peers over at me in a heap on the floor. His cheeks give away that he's trying not to laugh.

"Owww."

"Did you twist your ankle?"

"I think _you_ twisted something."

The cheeky bastard actually looks pleased with himself.

* * *

Alice and Jasper are waiting in the foyer for us to grab some lunch. Alice in a black dress with a purple lei around her neck and Jasper in a horrendous blue Hawaiian shirt and pink shorts covered with palm trees.

I pull my sunglasses over my eyes to lessen the glare. "I didn't know we were going to the beach today."

"It's called clashing patterns and it's de rigueur." I can tell he wants to spin around to show me the full effect, but thankfully he refrains.

"Why are you limping?" Alice doesn't miss a beat.

"I'm not." I slow down my walk to ease the ache of my thigh muscles. I'm trying not to walk like John Wayne, but it's harder than I thought.

"Yes, you are." She quirks an eyebrow at me, her inquisitive eyes flicking between Bunny's grin and my poor attempt at I-have-no-idea-what-you're-talking-about face.

"It's these new sandals. They're a bit tight."

Bunny guffaws and I yank on his arm with a glare to shut up. Jasper joins in and the pair of them falls about laughing like idiots. I honestly don't think Jasper knows what's so funny. But Alice does.

"I want the deets later, missy, and I won't take no for an answer."

"Fine, fine. Can we just go and get something for lunch I'm starving."

Jasper pulls a leaflet out of his pocket, flashing it at us. "Let's go here. I've heard they do the biggest and best Wieners in Vegas."

Goddamn them all to hell.

* * *

After Alice sequestered me in her room, locking the boys out while she helped me get ready and pumped me for juicy details, I head to our agreed meeting place outside the elevators ready to go to the Awards ceremony.

The long dress I'd chosen, midnight blue chiffon fading to violet along the hem, swirls around my feet. It gives me some much needed confidence to face a room full of porn stars. A high percentage of whom have bounced with Bunny on more than one occasion.

The three shots of tequila are helping too.

As I lift the dress up so I don't trip over it, a long wolf whistle trails down the long corridor. I'm not prepared for the sight that greets me when I look in the direction of the sound.

Bunny.

Leaning against the wall, hands in pockets, legs crossed at the ankle.

In a mother fucking tuxedo.

* * *

**A/N ****Thank You so much for reading, we love each and every one of your reviews. Let's all take a minute to imagine Bunny in a tux...**

**A-JASPER-FOR-ME and Grnidgrl fluff our words good and proper. Thank you, Ladies**

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**Love Sparrow & Choc xox**


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33 - A-Cock-a-lips Now**

**EPOV**

* * *

I'm feeling pretty good. I've managed to find a tux that wasn't previously used on the set of 'Double-Oh Seven: Gold Fingered,' and now I'm looking at the most beautiful girl in the world. She's wearing some kind of blue dress, no straps, just bronze skin and tits, which makes me want to throw her over my shoulder and run back to our suite.

Yeah, there's no way I'm letting her out of my sight tonight.

"Hey gorgeous." I lean down and brush my lips against her soft cheek. One whiff of her scent and I'm gone, my dick standing at attention and my hips wanting to thrust against her warm heat.

I squeeze my eyes shut and tell my body to behave. It's too busy looking at Fluff to listen.

"Let's do some shots." Alice pulls Bella out of the bathroom and into the living space, dragging a bottle of Patron from the side. She fills them up evenly and we all slam them down and neck them back. The hot, clear liquid slides down my throat way too easily.

After a second shot, Fluff leans forward to whisper in my ear.

"You're wearing that tux when I fuck you tonight." Her voice is slightly slurred. Not-so-little Ed twitches in appreciation.

Big Ed, on the other hand, knows what she's like when she's had a drink. All promises and no delivery. The Fed-Ex of girlfriends. It doesn't even bother me; she makes such a cute fucking drunk that I plan on holding her all night no matter what.

"Eww, can you two stop for a moment?" Alice shakes her silver-wigged head sadly, and glances over at Jasper. He's wearing a midnight-blue tux with an over-ruffled shirt, his hair greased back like a 1970s gangster.

I seriously worry about that kid.

We take one more shot before we head to the Hard Rock Hotel, aptly named on this occasion, where the awards ceremony is taking place. Jasper's shelled out for a party bus and we all clamber inside, the pink neon lights illuminating the inside so we all look like we've got sunburn.

Alice opens a bottle of champagne, the cork flying across the bus and careening off Jasper's ear. He screams like a girl, fingers curling around his face like he's just been shot.

"Oh, my baby." Alice clambers across the bus, launching herself onto him and straddling his body. She sucks at his ear until his screams turn to whimpers, and I start to gag.

I mean, who wants to watch somebody else get it on?

"I've got an idea," Fluff downs her first glass of champagne. "Tonight we play drinking awards."

I stare at her, my brows drawing into a confused frown. "Drinking what?"

"It's a drinking game. Every time the award announcer says a certain word, one of us has to drink. I choose 'sex'."

"Cock." Alice looks up from Jasper's neck long enough to lay claim to a word. Jasper thrusts up appreciatively.

"Pussy." He drags his arms down her side. I wrinkle my nose up in disgust.

There's a silence while I weigh my options. If I choose too common a word, for example 'award' or 'nominated', I'll be drunk as a skunk before the interval. However, I don't want to let on to Bella that I know ALL the terms used in making a porn movie. She seems to want to ignore the fact I've been in the industry for all these years, and I'd like to keep it that way.

"What about you, Bunny?" Alsper stops dry humping long enough to ask me in unison. They scare me as much as those freaky twins in 'The Shining'. If either of them mentions Red Rum, I'm out of there.

I rub my chin, realizing I've forgotten to shave. Fluff watches me, her eyes turning dark as she looks at my jaw.

She looks at me like I'm something to eat.

Please God.

"I'll go with breasts." There, a fairly easy, non-threatening choice.

"I bet you will." Fluff guffaws drunkenly. I pull her onto my lap, closing my eyes when she wriggles her cute little ass all over me. I swear she's going to be the death of me.

But what a fuck awesome way to die.

Two hours later, we're sitting around our table, the once-white tablecloth strewn with empty bottles and uneaten food. We've been joined by Goldenballs and his girlfriend, plus a couple I've never met before.

"I'm sorry you've only won two so far." Bella runs her finger down one of my awards like it's a phallic symbol. Her caress is soft and gentle, and makes me want to lay her down on the floor.

"It's okay. I wasn't really keen on winning 'Best Transsexual Release'." I wink at her. She giggles and hits my arm.

There's silence as Rosalie Hale takes the stage to present an award. Having been in the industry for nearly fifteen years, she's seen as the grand old dame, and her reputation for being a bitch means that everybody treats her well. She sweeps her way toward the microphone, flicking her blonde hair behind her, and everybody stands up to give her a standing ovation.

"Thank you." She smiles sexily and winks at the audience. They roar back in reply. She takes it a little further and pulls her breasts out from her skimpy dress, and they're rock hard as always.

"The nominations for 'Best Squirting Release' are ..."

Bella coughs loudly, spitting champagne all over the tablecloth in front of her. "Best squirting release? What the hell's that?"

I can feel laughter gurgling in my throat. She's so damn funny when she's had too much to drink.

"You know …" Alice points down toward her groin. "When a girl …" She nods her head a few times, as if that will let Bella know exactly what squirting means.

"Jesus Christ, Alice, I know what squirting is!" Fluff shouts loud enough for half the auditorium to hear. Hundreds of heads whip around to look at us. She blushes immediately, her whole face turning a shade of red that resembles an English mailbox. I smirk, knowing that people think I've made her squirt.

I lean toward her, letting my breath tickle her ear. She moans softly, her hand curling around my upper thigh, so, so close to where I really want it to be. "Have you ever squirted, Bella?"

She shakes her head and I get a little harder.

"Never?"

"No, I thought it was a myth. I assumed people just use that to cover up the fact they've peed themselves."

I laugh harder. "It isn't a myth, baby."

Her blush turns to beetroot. "Clearly."

I flick my tongue against her fleshy lobe, sucking it into my mouth. "I'll show you later."

Her eyes bulge as if they're going to explode from her face. She crosses her legs, her ass moving across her seat as if she can't get comfortable. She glances across the table to see if anybody is listening, but they're all too busy applauding. "I don't think so."

I touch her chest, just where her collarbone juts against her creamy skin. "We could have a lot of fun trying." I can't resist, I drop my head down and kiss her just where the swell of her breast begins. Her flesh puckers into tiny goosebumps. I stick my tongue out and lick against her, loving the way she sounds when she moans.

Like a porn star.

Eventually we come to the final award of the night. By this time, Alice has virtually passed out at the table, her wig long since abandoned, her dark hair spiking in clumps in various directions. Jasper's eyes are unfocused and fuzzy, his choice of the word 'pussy' is something he's clearly going to regret in the morning.

Bella has somehow migrated over to my chair, sitting on my lap like a human shield, glaring at any porn stars who come over to say hello. I keep my hands curled around her waist protectively, loving the way she is so possessive over my body.

"Is it nearly over?" she whispers in my ear.

I nod, gently rubbing my hand down her back. "We just need to stay for the Best Male Performer and then I'll call the bus to pick us up."

Her head lolls on my shoulder. "Good, because I have a lot of plans for you, Mr. Battery."

I kiss her soft hair. "I know, Sweetheart." I don't have the heart to tell her she'll be asleep before we even make it back to the hotel, or that I'll be carrying her up to our suite. She seems way too content in my arms to spoil things.

Ron Jeremy steps onto the stage and the crowd goes wild. I lift Bella up as I stand and applaud, laughing at the way she kicks her beautiful legs out of the slits in her dress as I lift her in the air. I try to resist running my fingers down her alabaster skin, feeling my dick twitch against my pants as I stare down at them.

"And the winner is …" Ron's voice cuts across the room. I glance up, surprised. I didn't even hear them run through the nominations. I was too busy looking at Fluff.

"Edward "The Battery" Cullen." Hearing Ron Jeremy call out my name brings a flush of pride to my chest. I try to put Fluff back on her chair, but she's fallen asleep on my shoulder. Everybody is standing and clapping, looking at me expectantly. It's like they're wondering why the hell I'm standing at my table, holding a girl in a midnight-blue dress, my eyes darting around while I work out how to get to the stage.

I sigh hard. There's no decision to make. Flexing my bicep muscles, I hoist Fluff up until she's cradled in my arms and walk over to Jasper. I kick his high-shine leather oxfords, causing him to jump up, his hands in the air like somebody's shooting at him.

"Wha ... what?" His lips turn down. "Did you just kick me?"

Fluff murmurs in her sleep, burrowing her face against my neck like a small animal.

"You've always wanted to accept an award, right?" I keep my voice low, so I don't wake her up.

His look of confusion grows. "Er, yes?"

"Well, here's your chance." I can hear laughter behind me as I walk across the auditorium, my arms starting to protest even at Fluff's scant weight. A burly security guard pulls the exit door open and I stalk out, never looking back, not regretting a thing.

The only award I want to hold in my arms weighs a hundred and ten pounds and is snoring like an old man with a sinus problem.

And I fucking love it.

* * *

**A/N ****Your reviews for the last chapter knocked us out. Bunny + Tux = major win. We'd like to award you all a night in Vegas with Ron Jeremy. Enjoy.  
**

**A-JASPER-FOR-ME and Grnidgrl shine our words and make us happy. We love you ladies.  
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